Plan A was never a good idea!
by Yuul
Summary: When hiding in plain sight doesn't work, the team find themselves working alongside an undercover agent with credentials that could rival Callens'. Who is Cassandra Wyatt? Who is she working for? Can they trust her? Callen aims to answer these questions, while trying to keep his team safe from what ever horrors Miss Wyatt may bring their way.
1. Chapter 1 - Check-in, Check-out

It was one of those days that Cassandra Wyatt woke up with an awful feeling. She was not naturally superstitious, that had been her mothers main attribute in life, but today she was. Today she wondered which side of the bed was the correct one to get out of, which foot she should put through her trousers first, whether there were black cats or ladders on the path on her way to work. It was stupid, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she shouldn't tempt fate - not today.

To her surprise, work was as uneventful as it usually was. Patients would walk in, give a small smile as they delved into their daily tragedies. She allowed them to take the spot light as she feigned interest, catching the cues with natural ease. The 'umms' and 'ah yes' only helped them continue with their dramatic monologues as the hour-glass in the corner of her stuffy office passed its sand almost in slow motion, tantalizing her with the notion that her day may soon come to an end.

And as if by some miracle, it did end. Not a minute too soon.

Cassandra had yet to get used to this nine to five business. Having a routine was foreign to her. Not being creature of habit by nature, utter chaos was what made her days tick on by with the uneven trajectory that made her feel safe. But it was not by choice that she had fallen into this routine; it was an order, and although renowned for her rebellious nature, she would never dare disobey a direct order - ever.

The memory of the conversation still resonated within her mind as if it were yesterday, and not nine months ago tomorrow, not that she was counting. It still made her blood boil as she remembered being called up to the directors office. He was notorious for making a scene, with Cassandra as the unwilling protagonist. The others looked at her with curious eyes as she rolled her own and left the comfort of the bullpen and made her way up the flight of stairs, two at a time.

The folder in his hand put her on edge as soon as he closed the door behind her. With that, she became instantly claustrophobic. He looked at her with worried eyes and hesitated when he held the brown envelop towards her, tamper ribbon beautifully wrapped around its pins. The contents of this envelope was going to change everything, and probably for the worse. At least that is what his eyes said to her. Leon Vance was always so easy to read. All his attempts to hide his thoughts from her were thwarted by the tension in his face and the slight twitch of his lips as he asked her to open the envelope. She did as she was told, as always, and has regretted it every day since.

Cassandra was brought back to the present by the sound of a people screaming in the streets. It wasn't unusual for there to be a violent domestic on the streets of downtown L.A. so she simply raised her hood, continuing on her long journey to what she had yet to actually call 'home'.

It was a beautiful detached house on the outskirts of Griffith Park, over an hour walk from the office - but it was worth every minute. It was her only condition to this ridiculous assignment. She refused to be put up in a town house or a swanky apartment. Her time had been and come in the city and she couldn't be away from nature any more. Of course, he had agreed. The surprise in his eyes when this was her only condition almost amused her. It didn't though.

Leaving the familiar sounds of downtown L.A. behind, she strolled leisurely through Korea Town, her cold hands lost deep in the pockets of her Parker coat and her feet following the inertia as she was lost once again in her thoughts.

Cassandra had always been good a keeping secrets, so when Leon requested her silence and indiscretion, she was actually slightly insulted. Her disapproval must have been apparent as he immediately apologized before waving her to sit down, a gesture he knew was wasted on the agent. She had leant slightly against the conference table in his office, and delicately unwove the ribbon. It wasn't until she had pulled the ribbon off entirely did she realize that she had been holding her breath and from the lack of sound coming from the other side of the directors desk, it seemed that Leon was holding his as well.

She had been right, which wasn't surprising. The contents of this envelope was going to change everything for the worst. It would mean leaving Virginia. It would mean leaving behind the only people that she knew. It would mean having to lie - again . It would mean having to start over as someone new - again. It would mean being alone - again. And to top it all off, it would probably mean suicide.

She remembered not being able to speak, fearful that the tears that had begun to prickle her eyes would flow out into the open. She had never got into that nasty habit either, as much as Ducky insisted that she was human and showing emotions was healthy and talking about them was even healthier. Rubbish, in her not so humble opinion. She remembered placing the photos back into the envelope and re-weaving the ribbon with intricate accuracy. It hadn't been the first tamper ribbon that she had removed and replaced without anyone knowing. She was good at her job, after all, that was the reason she was leant against the mahogany conference table, staring straight at the man that she owed everything to.

 _But I still can't forgive you, Leon_

Korea Town was all lit up, bustling with tourists travelling along to East Hollywood with bright eyes and wonder. She had never spent more than a few days in L.A. before and as much as people say how amazing this place was, she had yet to see the intrigue. Nine months of travelling along the same 7 mile stretch of streets, twice a day was already too much L.A. for her.

The rest of the journey only added to the uneventful day, and as she opened the front door, she couldn't help but smile at the irrational paranoia that had flooded her mind that morning. Why on earth she had allowed her thoughts to be invaded by superstitious nonsense, baffled her.  
With her coat hung on the owl shaped peg in the hall way, she found herself greeted by the soft sound of her new housemate.

"Evening Tiger" bending down to swoop the turtle shell in her arms, where he nuzzled and purred in contentment. "Yeah yeah - you only want me for the tuna" She rolled her eyes at him as she slipped off her shoes and walked just a few feet into the kitchen.

As pristine as the day she had first walked into the kitchen almost nine months ago, it looked like it could have come out of a holiday brochure or something of that sort. The only two appliances that showed any sign of having been used was the percolator on the centre island and the electronic tin opener in the far corner. One could speculate as to what was in the cupboards by these two items, and they'd be right. Tins of tuna and filter coffee were the only two items that were purchased from the convenience store in Los Feliz, and tuna was something she'd have never thought to buy, in the past.

The sweet little turtle shell followed her home one day about a month after she had moved in and had yet to leave. A small part of her had been a little sceptical about having to take care of another living being and had anyone that knew her well been asked, they'd have laughed at the idea. She found it hard enough to look after herself, let alone anything that would depend on her for survival - hence the void of greenery in the house. Everything she touch ends up dead, or at least all but Tiger.

She placed Tiger on the side and reached up for the last tuna tin. She made a mental note to walk into Los Feliz tomorrow and buy some more for this fussy little kitten. She couldn't help but smile as she recalled buying copious amounts of cat food that he simply turned his nose up at. 'Snobby little kitty' She'd always say to him as the tuna was put down for him, but just as she was about to say those three little words, a phone rang.

The Un-familiar sound of the mobile ringing in a box on the bookcase startled her. It took her a moment to react and pull the box out from behind the Canterbury Tales. Staring blankly at the screen: 'Unknown Caller'. Partial amusement came over her as she analysed the ironic caller id. She knew exactly who it was. This particular number was known by one man and one man only –

"What do you want?" she barked down the phone, injustice and malice slipping through each word.

"Just checking in." He paused, most likely sifting through his taught etiquette to further the conversation. "How are things?" He was obviously a slow learner.

Cassandra couldn't help but allow a wry smile to creep upon her lips. He had never been good a talking to her. It really was no surprise after all that they had been through but, still, it amused her a little. Moving out of the kitchen and into the living room she allowed him to stew in the awkward silence that she had created. It was the least she could do on this fine L.A. evening. "Things are as they always are" she finally replied, taking a seat in the centre of the antique sofa that came with the house.

"Good" His reply was direct, and with that she waited. Waited for him to get to the point of the conversation. Pleasantries between them had fizzled into unallocated space years ago, but there was some sense of admiration that he still tried, despite everything. "Miss Wyatt I -"

"No need for formalities Leon." Lifting her legs up upon the sofa, she stretched out into a laying position, readying herself for the night ahead where she would pick her own brain until it was physically impossible to stay awake. "What is the real reason you've called?". It was late and she had no inclination to entertain the directors call.

"That is all agent. Just a check in". He was lying, of course, but the spark of interest was vacant in her mind. There was very little that could be said to her these days that would instigate a response. With boredom, she yawned before replying.

"Well that's just great Leon. Thank-you for your concern. Now if you don't mine I-" The sound of the grass blades crunching outside caused her immediate stop. Slowly, she reached in between the sofa cushions and pulled out the semi pocket pistol.

"Cassie?" she ignored the director, but left the phone occupying the place she had been laid just moments before. It would be nice to have some sort of witness, even if it was someone over 2000 miles away.

Creeping silently along the floor, she listened out for further noises. She leant up against the window frame and peered outside to see the origin of the suspicious noise, but to her surprise - there was nothing. Relaxing her body, she rolled her eyes a laughed silently to herself. Superstitious, paranoia idiot. She paced back to the sofa and grabbed the phone, a small smile still upon her face.

"Don't worry Leon, false alarm I g-"

Cassandra caught the light before the sound began to resonate. She had not seen the explosive device being thrown through her front room window, let alone had time to react. Her body flew forcefully into the sofa, that turned upside down over her body, protecting her from any shrapnel that was begin scattered through the air. The phone, however, had not been so lucky, shattering as she had fallen, cutting the call short, leaving the director shocked silent in his desk chair in NCIS headquarters as he rang of the dead tone and quickly dialed another number.

"Get Wyatt Now!"


	2. Chapter 2 - Welcome Home

**AN: I would like to thank JayKayKay & cjanff for following and adding this story to their favorites :) I would also like to thank Gina Callen, jonesdeere88, maanou and Originals101 for following. And a special thank-you to Originals101 for your wonderful review :)**

...

Callen sat bored, feet up on his desk, watching the clock on the far side of the room tick the minutes away. It had been a relatively uneventful day. The case involving the murder of a young female petty officer had come to an end. Her CO, U.S. Navy commander Alan McClellan, was now making his way to CSP, to await his trial date. Callen shuddered as he pictured the black and grey exterior of the California State Prison. There was something about the contrast of the dull exterior and bright orange interior _camouflaging_ such dark souls that put him on edge. Quite a poetic state of affairs, he thought as he continued to stare bored at the clock. 17:58; two minutes to go.

"Are you feeling comfortable, Mister Callen?"

Matter did it not that he had been working there for longer than he cared to remember, Callen had still not managed to develop the ability to detect the presence of their fearless leader. His feet fell effortlessly to the ground, inertia spinning his chair around to see Hetty stood there, mild amusement glistening over her aged eyes. "I did not mean to startle you, Mister Callen"

"You didn't" he answered, a little too quickly.

The amusement from Hettys' eyes filtered down upon her facial features. She looked at least twenty years younger when she smiled. It wasn't often these days that genuine happiness reigned upon any of their features. This job was hard and it seemed to only get harder as the years ticked on. He wondered only how he would be able to deal with the constant heartache and emotional drainage that came with the territory when he was in the business as long as she had been – that was if he managed to last that long.

Hetties lips parted as if to continue their conversation, but was interrupted by the sound of Granger calling her name from the upper platform. Both pairs of eyes looked up to see the Assistant Directors pale face beckon her, before his frame moved towards to the ops area. Callen glanced over to the clock and saw as it turned to 18:00. It looked like he had lost his chance to leave the building on time, but the worried look on Grangers face and the absence of Hetty's previous amusement was a cause for concern.

 _This can't be good._

Skipping the steps two at a time, Callen followed Hetties' small frame up the stairs and into the Ops area.

"What is it?" Hetty asked as soon as she entered the room. Granger turned, his eyes set straight upon Callen as he entered moments later. Hetty ignored the Assistants Directors hesitation and asked once more what had happened, a more forceful slant on her tone. Granger nodded and picked up the small device on the centre table, clicking the button that operated the interactive board. Director Vance's image came immediately upon the screen.

If Hetty felt any surprise at this moment, she did not show it. Callen, on the other hand could not contain himself, setting himself directly in front of the monitor, hands placed nervously in his pockets. It was 9 pm in DC, not a normal time for the Director of NCIS to still be at his work place, not unless there was a good reason for it – which, under the circumstances, made Callen believe that there was.

"Good Evening Hetty. Callen." His acknowledgement was curt. There was something bothering him.

"Good evening Director Vance. To what do we owe this honor at such a late point in the day?" Hetty crossed over and stood directly in the middle of himself and Granger, looking suspiciously at the man's face on the screen.

"We have a situation"

Those four words alone made the silence in the room all that more deafening and awkward. Not once had those words been spoken without having to finally attend someone's funeral. Callen felt his lungs constrict as he mentally ticked off the whereabouts and relative safety of his team. He could not emotionally afford to lose anyone else.

"And what situation would that be?" The curiosity and suspicion in her voice was clear now. Callen couldn't help but glance over to the man on his right and notice that his eyes were anywhere but on the directors. Whatever this situation was – it was bad.

"Primrose has been compromised"

Yet another four words. Had Callen been able to see Hetty's face, he would have seen her eyes widen. Had he been registering her heart rate, he would have seen it spike. But he couldn't see these things. He didn't know what this meant, and the fear of the unknown situation brought back all the memories of the past few years that had him lost for words. Childishly, he wrapped his arms around his torso, annoyed once more that he had not been in the loop. What was this Primrose? Compromised? What did that even mean?

"Where is - ?"

"She is safe" Granger answered Hetty's question before the director had a chance.

 _She?_

Hetty turned to the Assistant Director and scoffed at him. "Safe? You'll have to give me more than that!" It was a rare occasion that Callen had seen Hetty angry, but he was sure that that was the very emotion that was presented on her face.

"She is still in L.A." Granger looked from the director to Hetty and adjusted his suit, nervously. "I can say no more, in present company" His eyes shifted slightly towards Callen.

"Oh come on, seriously?!" Callen's arms dropped from his torso and fell to his sides. "If anything is going on in our backyard I should kn- " He was cut short by the touch of Hetty's small hand on his arm.

"I believe that Mister Callen is the least of your worries" She barked, returning her eyes to Vance. Callen felt a small sense of pride that she had defended him, though it was not enough to mask the annoyance and distaste the assistant directors comment had fed him. It was becoming tiring having to deal with the constant need to prove himself to this man – Owen Granger, who had yet to accept his position in the team. It was still in the back of Callen's mind that Granger's original motives of even setting foot in their lives was to bring down their team in order to score points in Washington and enhance his own authority over NCIS. Shame they didn't take him away after the team proved to be valuable.

"Director?"

"Miss Lange, in light of the situation, Special agent Callen and his team may be brought up to speed on this" Callen could hear a small sigh of frustration coming from the man beside him. It was about time that someone made him realize that he is not the top of the food chain, despite his own thoughts. "However, I would prefer to engage in that conversation myself. In person"

Hetty shifted on the spot, before addressing the assistant director once more. "Tell me where she is and I will bring her here myself"

"That will not be necessary Miss Lange. Miss Wyatt is already on her way" The director answered, finally standing up in his office. "My flight is due to land at 06:00 hours. I will see you all tomorrow morning, and Miss Lange. Don't worry, she is alright"

The video feed cut to a black screen, showing the bitter reflection of the three bodies stood silently. The first to move was Granger, who said nothing as he moved defiantly in front of them and out of the OPS room, leaving Callen and Hetty alone, with only their thoughts to keep them company.

"Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day, Mister Callen" Hetty finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. "I suggest you go home and rest" With what seemed to be reluctance, Hetty Lange moved away from her spot in front of the screen and made her way to the automatic doors.

"Hetty?"

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at Callen, whose face was full of complete and utter confusion. She forced a small smiled upon her face. He was always such a curious agent – that was one of the reasons that she was lucky to have him on her team, but this time, his curiosity would just have to wait. She knew it would conflict with his innate impatience, but he was just going to have to trust her. "Until tomorrow Mister Callen, I am afraid I cannot answer any of your questions"

And with that Callen was left alone with his thoughts – berating himself slightly for waiting for the clock to turn 18:00. His uneventful day was turned upside down with concern, confusion and curiosity. Although he was sure that he wouldn't have slept at all this night had he managed to escape the office in time, he was almost certain that his night would be more restless with the knowledge he had now ascertained, albeit limited.

 _Miss Wyatt? Primrose? Grangers reservations? Director Vance's immediate departure to Los Angeles?_

Whatever this was about, he was sure it was going to make for an interesting story tomorrow morning.

...

The paramedics danced around her with uneasy steps. There were more than twenty people – detectives, agents, paramedics and herself, just outside the scene that resembled the Bangkok bombing in August.

Upon the sixth time asking 'Are you sure you are OK?', Cassandra has lost her patience and snapped and the junior paramedic that was attending her head wound. A small part of her felt bad for snapping at the young man, but she was not in a position to play the poor victim that needed to go to hospital. She had suffered only minor wounds, as was expected after the low-level IED was thrown into her living room. She knew that the bomb was not meant to cause her great damage – it was simply a warning, a calling card _per se_ , one that she knew very well.

The young paramedic stuttered over his words as he asked her whether she wanted anyone to be called. She tried to smile kindly at the young man as she shook her head, replying simply that she would be picked up shortly. The look of confusion on his face was quite apparent. She knew that he was wondering how she had been able to make a call in the time between them recovering her from underneath the sofa and attending her wounds in the back of the ambulance. She wasn't going to go into the specifics behind her knowledge, she just knew that when her phone connection had been cut with Vance, he would have made the call to get her out.

 _Where are you?_

And as if her mind was being read, her 'knight in shining armor' appeared behind the young paramedic, alongside an older looking LAPD detective, looking outraged.

"Miss Rachel Moretti?" she nodded at the detective, pushing herself up from the gurney and making her way out of the ambulance. "This gentleman here says he is a relation of yours." He glanced over at the tall, dark haired man by his side. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and laugh at the thought of actually being related to this man. But resist she did. It wasn't the time for fun and games. "He wants us to allow you to leave with him. Are you sure you're OK to leave?" His aged eyes were clouded with curiosity and frustration, with a slight glint of worry. It was understandable that the lead detective of an investigation was not going to be delighted at the thought of releasing a key witness to his case, especially in the current circumstances. She was sure that he was also concerned for her safety, although that was probably the least of his priorities.

"Miss Moretti?"

Cassandra had been unaware that she had lost herself in thought, snapped back to reality by the harsh tone of the detective.

"Yes, of course" She replied, a small smile forced upon her face. Reluctantly, the detective nodded towards her, eyeing up the figure that stood beside him. In one gentle move, her 'knight' was beside her, arm around her waist, helping her towards the extravagant Jaguar XKR S COUPE that was parked just meters away from the commotion. Hetty always knew how to set her agents up in style.

"Looks like I got here just in time. Detective Adams there was just about to rip you a new one for being so uncooperative" His amber eyes looked waringly down upon her, but she ignored his light banter. She was not in the mood for talking to anyone, let alone her 'knight' who would simply analyse her every word and make some big deal out of it. Registering her continued uncooperation, he simply helped her into the car and closed the passenger door lightly, before making his way onto the driver's side, belting up and driving inconspicuously away from the scene.

L.A. in the evening was beautiful. The sun was setting just over the horizon and the street lights began to dance around like fireflies in the twilight. It was oxymoronic to think that such a beautiful city harvested such evil souls. The bloodshed and terror that bubbled beneath L.A's surface was only heightened by the conspicuous activities of low-life criminals. Like bugs under rocks – you lift one rock and a million bugs come out to play.

The silence was soothing, but she knew it couldn't last forever, and instead of simply waiting and letting someone ruin the moment – she took the liberty of dashing her own dreams once more.

"It's Yemen all over again" She spoke, her eyes remaining fixated on an invisible point out of the passenger window. It caused a slight sense of amusement as she said these words. It wasn't just Yemen. It was DC, Oxford, St. Petersburg, Queensland, Tel Aviv... it was history simply repeating itself, like a broken record that never skips past one set of notes; a tune that she felt that she was being forced to dance to, a tune that she was growing tired of hearing in her nightmares.

"And like in Yemen, I am here Cassie" His words were surprisingly comforting. However, now, it was different than before. This wasn't just some rouge terrorist cell that they could swoop in and disband like the Warriors. They were up against a virus that had infected more than just the weak minds of some naïve followers. No. This was more than that. But tonight was not the time to put more salt on the wound. She simply looked over to the tall, dark man and smiled.

"I know Nate. I know."

It had been over a year since she had seen Nate Getz, and it was as if not one day had passed. It had been him that had brought her up to speed with her new role as a psychologist. She trusted herself around him even less now that she knew some of his secret psycho-tricks. Needless to say, he was one of the only people that she considered a friend. After their stint in the middle-east, and their follow up in Moscow he was the closest thing she had left to a partner, and the fact that he was still breathing after five years of knowing her was a feat that was not to be looked down upon.

"Where are we going?" She asked, finally.

"The boat house" He replied, hesitantly.

And he was right to. It had been a while since she had set foot in the L.A. Ops centre and it had never been one of her favourite places. However, the marina-side interrogation room wasn't all that bad – even though this time, she wasn't going to be there as a simple guest. She just hoped that Vance understood the difference between questioning and interrogation, because if that line were crossed, she was walking out of that place without a second thought. It wouldn't have been the first time.

 _And certainly not the last._

"I ran from the wolf but ran into a bear" she grumbled to herself.

"What's that?" He glanced over to her in confusion, to which she just shook her head. It was going to do her no good getting herself worked up about it now. She'd save her energy for the hours, days and weeks to come.

 _Welcome back to the fold. Idiot_. She mused to herself, sulking silently as she glanced once more out of the passanger side window, awaiting the impending doom.


	3. Chapter 3 - Calm before the Storm

**AN: I big thanks to all of the readers! This is the final 'intro' - action will officially begin in the next chapter so, stay tuned and please Review!**

 **A special thanks to those who have favourited and followed from day one and an added thank-you Em-x. everlasting and wildcat717 for favouriting and following and to angel897, NikkiAlex and Hoosier65 for following! I would also like to thank Originals101, Hoosier65 and the guests for your heartwarming reviews - I hope I continue to deserve such kind words :)**

 **...**

 _Dr. Rachel Moretti. Doctoral graduate from Cambridge University. Three years experience in clinical psychology in the U.K. and a further two years (and nine months) in counseling psychology and psycho-therapy in the U.S. Thirty-two. Widowed. No kids. Highly recommended by numerous P.S.A. accredited service providers (references available on request). Smoker. Social…_

It was always easier for Cassandra to undertake an operation under an alias that resembled herself in the least amount of points possible. It was a defense mechanism she had developed when trying to differentiate herself from her cover. It was vital for the success of a mission that she is present when creating a credible backstop, or at least that is what she had made herself believe. This particular cover had not required herself or Abby to rack their brains too much. It was just another name with another career that would be placed in another city simply to blend in. Rachel was not required to infiltrate any gang or criminal organization, or even aim to gain the trust of a person of interest. No. Rachel Moretti was created to allow Cassandra to hide in plain sight as she watched and waited from afar. Rachel would be easier to shake, but after nine months of playing house with this alias, it would still take some time.

The drive along Fiji Way to the marina was over before Cassandra was ready. She hadn't had time to slip out of Rachel's skin and fully realize the implications of what had occurred, let alone prepare herself for the impending doom that was going to brought upon her as soon as Vance made his trip to Los Angeles. The moment that information fell off Nate's tongue, Cassandra felt her stomach turn. It was going to be an interesting conversation, to say the least.

Pulling into the marina-side car park, Nate turned off the head lights and drove the final stretch in complete darkness. It had always been common practice to enter the area as inconspicuously as possible. Cassandra couldn't help but smile slightly as she remembered the first time she had undertaken this journey in the dark. She was sure that she was still getting money docked from her salary to pay for the damage she had caused to that Ford Excursion. Hetty had almost killed her when she had filed her report. There were only a few memories from the short time she had spent with the OSP unit and not all of them could make her smile.

To Cassandras disappointment, Nate stopped the car just moments later, wiping the small smile off her face. Her sullen expression was hidden under the darkness, but she was sure that Nate could scene how off-putting this situation was for her, for he simply removed the key from the ignition and left the car without a word.

 _Breathe, Wyatt. Breathe._

The passenger door opened, and Nate extended his hand towards her. She reluctantly accepted the gesture, indubitably against accepting help from others. However, this time she was unsure whether she would have successfully made it out of the car unaided. And, of course, it was Nate. For this alone, she would make an exception.

Her suspicion was dramatically confirmed by her stumbling over her own two feet as she exited the vehicle. The pain in her right ankle caused her to wince a little as she found her feet and finally let go of Nate's hand. It must have got caught under the sofa, or twisted as she literally flew across she room and fell with anything but grace or elegance onto her 'Aged and Rustic, White Oak flooring'. Only then had she wished she had carpeted the place. Maybe her fall would have been cushioned slightly.

 _Yes, but blood doesn't come out of carpet as easily, does it?_

"It's cold" she whispered, pulling her cardigan around her.

"It's to be expected" Nate replied, closing the car door and locking the vehicle. No lights flashed. No audible signal was heard. Only a few of the essential modifications that Hetty ensured were built-in to their vehicles.

 _That woman thinks of everything._

"We are by the water front, after all." He continued, matter-of-factly. "Thermal transparency makes the temperature at the marina – " He was cut short by the young woman's hand closing over his lips.

"I do not require a science lesson, Nate" She felt his lips twist into a smile, and she couldn't help but mirror his expression.

To her, Nate Getz really was like a big friendly giant, and her knight in shining armor. He stood a least a foot higher than she, overshadowing her small frame. She had called him her 'knight' since their first meeting, in Yemen, when she was so relieved to finally be able to talk to someone in plain English and not in broken English dissolved in Yemeni Arabic. She had never managed to get a hold on the subtle differences between the classic and the vernacular speech, so when she was told (or what she thought she understood) that an American agent had been assigned to their unit, Cassandra had literally been over the moon.

"You are also underdressed Cassie" He continued, turning her on the spot and guiding her towards the boathouse entrance at a reduced speed. She had twisted her ankle afterall.

The rushed exit from her temporary place of residence, had not provided her with the time or even the thought to better her appearance. She stood barefoot on the granite pavement that led down to the boathouse and although she donned her office attire, it was not thick material that separated her skin from the cruel evening breeze, but lightweight silk and mohair and a summer style cardigan atop her short sleeved shirt. She simply shrugged in her indifference as they made their way to the boat house. It wasn't like she could do anything about her situation now but remove herself from the cold and enter the small building.

Upon entering the boathouse, Nate reached out and turned on the lights. Cassandra stood dead in the doorway, waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.

"Here" Nate stood in front of her and removed his jacket, slinging it delicately over her shoulders. "Don't want you catching the death of cold, do we?" He smiled at her and lightly squeezed her shoulder before making his way over to the small kitchenette on the far side of the main room, next to the flat screen TV she was sure was hooked up to the second room, the one she knew they used for interrogation.

The boat house was just as she remembered. The eight-seater table still held the mismatched chairs in the center of the main room. To the right, the sofa & seat set remained, covered in leather cushions that hid the wicker backing, coffee table half a meter in front with magazines hiding the dark oak. Cassandra couldn't help but glance up at the netting that decorated the room. The buoys could literally represent a rainbow around the room – a little touch of color for the otherwise plain and standard edifice.

"I'm not giving you my shoes again though" He continued as he began to prepare two cups of coffee. Cassandra couldn't help by laugh lightly at the memory as she slipped her arms through the sleeves, losing herself in the material. She instantly felt warmer.

Their time in Yemen had been interesting to say the least. Nate had joined to effort to track the Warriors movements and ultimately locate their supposed leader, Sadat Habaza. Cassandra had always expressed her doubts about the leadership position that had been assigned to Sadat, stressing that _'a man of that caliber and alleged power would not hide like a coward'_ , but her supervisors had shut her superstitions down and asked that she simply maintain her focus on her actual mission – track the open source intelligence and report any and all findings to her supervisors through Nate. She had become one of his 'contacts' as she remained undercover.

The shoe incident had happened only days after their first meeting. Chatter had sparked the interest of the young agent. She had heard that Sadats brother, Abdul had finally made his way back to Yemen, a fact that she was asked to visually confirm. In doing so, she met with Nate in one of the coffee shops in the capital to warn him that he should not been seen, as he was presumed dead. It took only minutes for her to feel that they were being watched – a fact that came to light during the final stretch of their assignment when Nate's cover had finally been compromised by one of Habazas men. To cause a distraction she had asked Nate to provide her with his shoes. He didn't hesitate in complying with the request, although his eyes were filled with confusion.

She had subsequently began to try and sell the shoes to the customers, deliberately showing the soles and touching people with them. Showing the sole of your shoe has long been an insult in Arab culture and to hit someone with it is seen as even worse. This was a customary act that often befell upon the American flag, here in Yemen – it was a perfect way to cause a scene and allow Nate time to leave.

"You got out didn't you?" She replied in faux amazement. "You should be thanking me for holding your shoes in everyone's face! I think I can still feel the bruises from when that guy grabbed the shoe and got me on the back of the legs!" He could hear him laugh and she could not refrain from doing the same as she made her way to the sofa and awaited him to join her, coffee cups in hand. She thanked him before taking a sip, allowing the warmth of the liquid to surge through her body.

This was the calm before the storm – she knew it.

"Have you told Hetty I'm here?"

His hesitation was answer enough, but she had always enjoyed allowing people to stew in the awkward silence she so easily bestowed upon people. She raised an eyebrow and took another sip, watching him with hawk eyes.

"Although I thought you might want a moment before the wolf descend, I was ordered to message Hetty when we arrived" His eyes were apologetic, but she was not going to berate him for following a direct order. It wasn't exactly his fault, even if he did push the buttons.

"Well, Nate" She began, placing the coffee cup upon this month's edition of 'Vogue'. "There is only one thing I can say to you" She stretched herself out before pointing violently at the cup she had just placed down "That… is not coffee"

...

The phone went off and she needed not bother to reach into her pocket to know what the message would say. Cassandra and Nate had arrived at the boathouse. That was her cue. Hetty had already prepared a small bag filled with clothes for Cassandra, and she had only one more thing to retrieve. She walked just a few steps towards her file store, placing her thumb on the fingerprint reader and opening her eye wide for the retina scanner. It opened in a flash, revealing a myriad of secrets that she believed she'd take to the grave. One, however, was soon to be revealed.

There was a thin unmarked envelope within the chamber, inside it a new identity and assignment for Agent Wyatt. Hetty had hoped beyond hope that this 'plan B' would never have to come to light. A silly notion for someone who had been in the business for so long.

With a quick flip of the switch she closed the file store, unwilling to reveal such secrets to the pair of eyes that were staring from across her office.

"Your tenacity never ceases to amaze me, Mister Callen" She said simply, walking over to her desk and sliding the envelop in the bag. Why she thought that he would follow her instructions and go home was beyond her. He was stubborn. Another reason that made him a great agent.

"Nor does your secrets, me" He was hurt. She could tell by the blunt tone in his voice. She refrained from sighing and pushed back the guilty feeling that began to rise from the pit of her stomach. She couldn't afford to feel bad for Callen at this moment – the guilt she had was reserved for Cassandra, and Cassandra alone. It was her fault that she had been put in this situation after all.

"Well, Mister Callen, I would have thought that you were aware of the way this job works, by now. Keeping secrets can keep us alive, as well as others" Hetty reached for the key that was buried in her pocket and opened up the top draw of her desk, pulling out a phone and placing it in the bag, before taking the handle in her small hand and walking towards the exit.

The job was non-stop from the day an agent signed up in their youth until their untimely demise in the name of 'the greater good'. Hetty Lange knew this well. She was the last of a dying breed of cold war veteran agents, a foreigner in the days that she lived now. There were times she wished that her job had cut her life just a little shorter as to save herself from the suffering of watching others lose hope as their days become darker and darker. The had been a time where she would have done anything to end it all, but she couldn't. Not quite yet.

Only feet from the doors, she noticed that she was alone in her stride and turned to see Callen still stood dumbfounded in her office.

"Are you coming or not?" she called, grabbing the keys and shaking them. "I think it'll do us both some good" She tried to force a smile on her face, but her body was unwilling to comply with her wishes. It would most certainly do Callen some good – but she was yet to see where she was to be placed in this situation. After all, it had been such a long time since she had had to intervene in such an operation, and the last time hadn't gone as well as she had hoped. Not at all.

...

It had been just over an hour since Nate had thrown up the proverbial flare, and just twenty minutes since Cassandra had fallen asleep on the sofa. Having placed a blanket over her small figure, he'd decided to wait on the decking for Hetty, giving himself an excuse to get some fresh air as well as preempting any drama that may occur. Cassandra was exhausted, and he didn't want her to be woken up just yet.

The night had come in with brute force, stealing light from the sky and prohibiting even the moon from sheading its rays onto the Los Angeles bay. Personally, he liked it like this and felt at ease as he listened to the waves below lightly crash into the side of the boathouse.

The silence lasted only moments as his tranquility was interrupted by the sound of two pairs of feet making their way down to the entrance. He burrowed his eyebrows as he wondered who had accompanied Hetty, but when they came into view, Callens blank face was illuminated by the light originating from the boathouse through a small window.

"Evening Callen" He spoke quietly, nodding towards the team leader. He was sure that this situation would cause a few interesting visits to his office – well, if he had an office again. At that thought, he contemplated asking for a transfer back, just for a while, just to make sure that everyone was fine, a task that may become a need when all of this blew over.

 _If…_

"Good evening Mr. Getz" Hetty's voice was just as stagnant as the look on Callens face. They say that your life can be turned upside down in just one day – a statement that would hold very true over all involved. The phone call he had received this evening had had his heart racing at a hundred miles an hour. He wasn't sure whether he was truly made to be an agent. He wasn't sure whether he could remove himself completely from a situation as he so eagerly encouraged his colleagues to do. He had never thought about who _he_ would talk to if he lost someone, especially someone he was assigned to protect. His only hope was that it didn't happen.

"Good evening Hetty." He smiled down at the woman, noticing the bag that was in her hand. Clothes for Cassie, he was sure of it. "Cassie is asleep. She's had an eventful evening" he hoped that his informative warning was understood. He reached out to take the bag from Hetty before asking the ultimate question he had been asking himself since he received Vances phone call.

"Is he back?" He watched as Hettys face grew sterner in the limited light, answering the question in such a way that words could never do. He couldn't help but glance through the small window and notice that Cassie had turned on the sofa, but still remained sleeping. Part of him wished that she didn't have to wake up from her sleep and into the nightmare that would meet her in the morning. His face was just as blank as Callen's, though Nate's eyes did not hold the confusion that Callen did. No, the emotion in his eyes was fear.

"If he's back – what are we going to do?" It seemed like such difficult question, so when Hetty answered in such a direct and simple way, it surprised Nate somewhat.

"Well Mister Getz" Somehow Hetty's composure was as solid as it ever was, although Nate knew that she was simply projecting confidence to hide her worry and guilt "We may just have to kill him, once and for all!"


	4. Chapter 4 - Rules are Rules

_**A/N: Thank-you for angel897 and Hoosier 65 for your wonderful reviews! Also to skiheidi16 and nanny1981 for the favs and Ratoncita71, WhisperOfWings, hellangelXrena, potatoninha347, Short but Deadly, nanny1981, CalaisForever & Spartans091 for following. To all of you, and the wonderful readers, I thank-you for your support and hope that you enjoy the lastest installement.** _

_..._

 _The walls of the small room felt like they were closing in on her. There was a small light at the far end that created a sense of false hope in her heart as she felt her legs accelerate towards it, fully aware that the gap was closing in and soon she would be stuck in the darkness, forever._

 _She was sprinting now, dodging the obstacles that seemingly jumped into her path out of no-where and suddenly she remembered how she had sprained her ankle that evening – why was she able to run with such ease? As if her thoughts were extended into reality, a sharp pain surged through her right leg and she toppled down onto the floor with all but elegant grace. And there she lay, alone in the dark, body rattled with fear with such intensity that she was hardly aware of the footsteps that came towards her. With a sudden wave of realization, she knew she were no longer alone. She willed her eyes to not look up, but could not resist the curiosity. The footsteps stopped and before her knelt a man who extended his hand towards her. With shy eyes she followed the hand up to the face and recognised the amber eyes that looked back towards her._

 _Nate_

 _The fear subsided as she reached out to take his open hand and felt her body being lifted almost effortlessly from the cold stone floor. Her eyes never left his, but as she watched his amber eyes turn into those teal eyes she knew so well, the relief was replaced once more with fear and she could do nothing to stifle the scream._

With a jolt, Cassandra left her laying position and sat dead straight on the sofa she had fallen asleep on. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure that it was going to escape her chest as she shivered under the cold sweat that had occupied her skin so devilishly. It had only been a dream, a nightmare, but to her, it was more than just a subconscious fantasy that was being expressed – it was her biggest fear.

It had been months since she had seen those eyes haunt her and their return would mark only the tip of the iceberg that would inevitably cause her to sink. It was just the beginning.

Her breathing began to steady and she finally allowed herself to blink, just in time to return to them the focus and the image of the boathouse around her. She was fully aware that there was another set of eyes in the room with her, their focus settled directly upon her seated self. Cassandra was not sure whether she wanted to engage in conversation quite yet with the woman sat across the coffee table, her small figure almost enveloped by the cushioned armchair. Unfortunately for her, she didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Cassandra" Hetty's voice was steady as she addressed the agent, but her hands were held in a tight ball in her lap. This didn't go unnoticed. Cassandra knew that Hetty was as apprehensive as she was about the imminence of the conversation at hand. "I'm sor-" In a fashion dominated only by the young woman, now standing, blanket still wrapped around her body, Cassandra raised her hand to stop the apology before making her way to the kitchenette to prepare herself a cup of the closest thing they called coffee.

"Rule number six Hetty" Cassandra finally replied, pushing the small button on the side of the electric kettle.

"Rule number six?" Hetty turned to look at her, eyebrow raised in confusion. It wasn't surprising that she was unaware of the reference to the rules that Cassandra had grown up with. They were like her ten commandments, at least sevenfold in number, but they did her justice all the same. Her life was saved more than once by the guidance of these rules and the man that instilled them in her.

"Yes. Rule number six. Never apologize it's a sign of –"

"Weakness" Cassandra looked over to the entrance at the far end of the room to see two men enter. Nate, who's eyes mirrored her own curiosity at the second man finishing her sentence. It wasn't an accurate supposition to think that Cassandra was one of the only few that understood the complexity of Gibbs' rule set. He had worked with many an agent over the years – that said, she was still surprised he had even bothered to demonstrate his knowledge despite them being strangers. _Territorial?_ She mused, turning back to the kitchenette.

"Oh, Mister Callen. Meet Miss Cassandra Wyatt." Hetty introduced, her smile shining in her voice, but Cassandra did not respond, still waiting for the kettle to boil.

"You NCIS? FBI?" Callen asked, fishing for the information he had not been privy too.

"I don't think the FBI are fond of British nationals, Mr. Callen." She replied, nonchalant.

"NCA? MI6?" He continued impatiently

"Callen!" Nate berated, surprised at his leader's inconsideration. It was uncharacteristic of Callen to be so forward with his questioning. Nate made a mental note to do some questioning of his own when he got Callen on his own.

"Curious cat aren't you?" Cassandra disliked a morning interrogation at the best of times, but without a coffee, she wasn't even human. Lucky for her, she would not be subjected to the granulated disappointment that she had just spooned into the mug as Nate handed her over a thermal coated cup from one of the coffee stands on the marina. Despite the kind gesture, Cassandra did not smile, nor did she even look up at him as she took the coffee and made her way back to the sofa, Callen's eyes analysing her every step.

Cassandra had already decided that she didn't much like this Callen guy. She took a sip and decided to analyse him, much like she knew he was doing to her. His demeanour was the closest she had ever seen to an impetulant child in a grown adult. He was most certainly their leader; after Hetty, of course.

"Another one of _yours_ , I assume" she directed to Hetty, taking another sip of her coffee, relishing in the warmth that began to stream down her throat. Now, she felt as if she could engage in some form of conversation. She returned her eyes to Callen, her expression as stoic as his own. Nope. She didn't like him at all.

"Agent Callen is our Senior Agent" Hetty's deflection

"Interesting." Cassandras tone was dismissive. She cared very little for any information about those around her. She was not in the right frame of mind to be dealing with anyone other than the man who, according to the clock on the opposite wall, was due to arrive within the hour. "I'm going to take a shower" she said, throwing the blanket off her, grabbing the bag that Hetty had brought with her before placing the coffee cup on the main table and releasing a small smile to Nate, finally thanking him for the kind thought. Coffee. Nothing better.

With no further words, she made her way up the stairs where she knew a small shower room to be, at the end of the corridor, passing the secondary interrogation room on her right, with the aim to remove both the shrapnel, blood and annoyance that was covering her body, inside out.

...

Callen heard the door upstairs slam shut and sat at the table in the centre of the room, ignoring the disapproving glances Nate and Hetty were sharing. It may be the lack of sleep or Grangers comment or yet another secret situation that had put him on edge, but he didn't have the energy to pussy foot around. He was in a terrible mood, coffee outstanding and being once again the only one in a room that didn't understand what was going on. Lucky for him, his team would arrive soon, making the ratio of savvy to not an equal playing field – when the director came anyway.

"Your manners Mister Callen, are quite lacking" Hetty spoke, finally, breaking the awkward silence.

Callen contemplated a sarcastic answer, but decided against it, rubbing his face with both hands before placing them behind his head, reclining back slightly in the chair. "I know" he replied simply, looking from Hetty to Nate, daring them to berate him further. They didn't.

They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before familiar voices could be heard just outside the boathouse.

"It's not true, Deeks. Seriously, how can you even believe that?" Kensi's voice could be heard saying, a light laugh following her words.

"If it's on TV – it _must_ be true Kens. Besides, how else can you explain the decline in IQ level in the U.S.? It's alien abduction. I'm telling you!" Deeks pushed the door open, allowing his partner to enter first.

Kensi rolled her eyes and stopped dead as they fell upon the trio "Hey Nate" Kensi said with a smile, which faltered when seeing the deadpan look Callen exhibited and a similar expression on Hettys face. "What's… going on?" She glanced over at Deeks as if to confirm the lack of understanding. He shrugged and took his place at her side, awaiting some form of response.

"You will be debriefed when the Director arrives" Hetty replied returning to the seat she had once occupied, her hands steepled under her chin, looking pensive.

Both Deeks and Kensi exchanged confused looks before taking a seat at the table, feeling just as awkward as the silence.

"So, Doc." Deek's began "You, um, good?" As expected, Deek's wasn't able to deal with the arduous situation without trying to make some light hearted conversation. Nate did not refuse his attempts, and followed suit by taking a seat opposite them, Callen's hard look not going unnoticed by the psychologist.

"Yeah" He replied, nodding his head a little too much. "All is good." He suddenly realized that he didn't really have much to say on the subject. His mind was lost with the different scenarios that may come to pass when the director finally made his entrance. "You?" he asked, his head still nodding with nerves.

Although Deeks felt the tension, it did not stop him continuing. "Well I'm great, apart from the fact that Kensi doesn't seem to believe the fact that our educational system is on the brink of falling to pieces"

"That's not true. All I said was that I didn't believe that little green men were the cause!" Kensi replied, punching her partner lightly on the shoulder.

"I think they you didn't call them that" He replied in jest, a wicked grin on his face. Kensi opened her mouth to reply, but her voice caught in her throat as she was surprised to see a female figure descend the staircase, her damp hair dripping down the back of her black shirt, leaving a trail of water droplets in her wake.

Callen, on the other hand had been watching the staircase with the upmost intensity, his stare still following her as if she were to disappear at any moment and he had to be the one to see it.

"And who do we have here?" Deeks asked in a sing-song voice standing as the woman reached the bottom of the stairs. Callen watched as she walked over to Deeks, half-expecting her to slap him in the face – but to his surprise she walked up to the table, placed the bag that Callen assumed had her clothes in and extended her hand towards Deeks.

"Cassandra Wyatt" She wore a small smile on her face which caused Callen to burrow his eyebrows. It seemed like the water had washed away her foul demeanour. He contemplated following her example – but decided that water wasn't going to rid him from his demons this morning. No – they would be laid to rest later with a six pack and a bottle of tequila.

"Marty Deeks and this is my partner Kensi Blye" Callen watched as they exchanged pleasantries, rolling his eyes. It was then he noticed Nate staring at him. He was sure that he was being analysed – as always when Nate was around. Despite everything they had been through, despite the ups and downs and the in depth conversations, Callen was always slightly uneasy around the man, especially when he looked at him with those deep, concerned and questioning eyes. Had it not been for the fact that he heard footsteps down the path and immediately felt the tension rise within the boat house, he'd have called Nate out on his incessant staring – but with the arrival of the Director, Callen would soon forget and forgive Nate for all of what, he considered, to be his misgivings.

...

"What is he doing here?" Cassandra snapped, gaze avoiding the aged man that leant against the door inside the interrogation room.

Leon's arrival was followed by the typical formalities one would expect from the OPS team. Cassandra introduced herself to Sam Hanna, who had accompanied to director, to whom she simply nodded then took her leave to the interrogation room, knowing full well that she would have been accompanied there had she waited a moment more. What she hadn't expected, was if she had stayed that moment longer, she would have seen a third man enter the boatshed. Her unfavourable opinion was glaringly obvious when she saw him follow the director into the room and shut the door behind him.

"You know the drill Wyatt" The man replied in exasperated monotone.

"I wasn't talking to you, _assistant_ director" Cassandra made sure to stress the level at which this man's career had stagnated. Owen Granger had some very obvious and easily accessible buttons to press, and she was sure to press each and every one of them under any circumstance that she was subjected to his presence. It had worked, of course. His face twisted as he resisted the urge to respond. "Leon, I swear –"

"He's here, because I asked" Leon replied, calmly taking a seat opposite her. He placed a file on the desk and pushed it towards her "And we have bigger issues"

Cassandra's eyes twitched with anger as she shot a disapproving look at Granger before deciding not to pursue the matter further – _yet_.

"We always have bigger issues" she muttered, flipping the file open. "You have got to be kidding me!" She immediately closed the file and shoved it back to the director. "You knew. That's why you called, isn't it?" It was a rhetorical question that was answered by the surveillance photos that depicted those teal eyes that haunted her nightmares. "This…" She pointed violently to the file "…is the reason NCIS is the most hated institution in the world Leon." She pushed the chair back and jumped to her feet, and began pacing, forcefully rubbing her eyes to stem the tears of anger that were welling up. "I… I can't believe you" She finally stood, defeated before him, her arms slumped at her side. "You _used_ me"

It was rare that Cassandra bore her emotions for people to see, but the audacity of this man broke her in more pieces that it should. All the signs were there from the start. This sudden assignment – just to observe " _just in case"_ as he had put it, had really just been a ploy to get her to hang herself on the hook, to dangle herself in front of the 'big fish', whose profile filled more than just the file on the table.

"How long have you known?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper

"Sit" Leon ordered, opening the file.

Cassandra begrudgingly obliged, her eyes fixed on an invisible point atop the table.

"These images were taken last week" Leon began to take out the photos and place them, facing towards her. "Kaleidoscope picked him up just outside LAX, Korea town and, finally…" he placed the last photo atop the others "Just outside your apartment" Cassandra looked at the final photo of a man, sat smiling in the back of an unmarked vehicle, driving down her road. She knew instantly that he had probably wanted to see it for himself; scope out the residence of the agent that tried to kill him.

"How long, Leon?" She repeated, her voice more forceful.

"This is part of an ongoing, extensive operation, _agent_ Wyatt, so –"

"When will you learn to be quiet Owen?" She spat "Shall I shoot you in the other leg?" Her threat caused him to step towards her, slamming his hands flat on the table so hard that almost made her jump.

"Don't push me Wyatt." His words were little more than a hiss, but she did not back down, meeting his glare with full force.

"That's enough!" Leon exercised his authority. _Finally_. Granger took a step back, still staring the young agent down. She scoffed at him and turned to await Leon's answer to her question. He sighed and took a moment to ponder his wording. "We had reports that he had fled to Europe. It was only a matter of time before he was to return to the U.S." He began, glancing over to Granger "It was decision from SecNav to seek intel that would suggest he were back and that is when I asked you to go on this assignment"

"No" Cassandra shook her head violently "You didn't _ask_ me to be on _this_ assignment!" She reminded him with force "You gave me orders to watch -…"

"We needed you to be here" Granger interrupted bluntly. "Where we could make sure to find him when he appeared"

The honesty in his words actually made her smile, sarcastically of course, but a smile at least. It finally began to make sense. Perfect… fucked up… sense.

"So let me get this straight…" she began, her voice as calm as she could possibly make it "So you all got together in a meeting room and decided that you wanted to use me as bait – _again_!"

"Cassandra –"

"And…" she wouldn't let him cut her off, losing the calm tone in her voice "… you make me believe that he was dead, that _you,_ the _great_ NCIS has brought down one of the biggest pains in the arse on the planet the ' _Ubiytsa'_ as you call him– because, you are so _great_ and all" Sarcasm dripped off her words "You, then, show me images of all of his known associates and tell me that you have intel that there is an imminent attack on Los Angeles as a power struggle is thought to occur, which was a complete and utter lie, just so that would be the sitting duck that brought the bastard out of hiding?!" She glared from one to the other "Stop me if I'm wrong?"

Silence

"Just as I thought!" Cassandra slammed her own hands against the table and stood before Leon, anger bubbling to the surface "I gave up EVERYTHING for your team. EVERYTHING!" her hands made contact with the table again

"Wyatt! Calm –"

"Don't you dare!" She hissed at Granger "Don't… you…" Her hands returned to her face, rubbing her eyes to stop the tears. "I'm done" She held up her hands in defeat "I'm done with NCIS. Done with America. Done with it all" Cassandra grabbed the back of the chair and pushed it under the table, resting her weight on her arms as she clenched the chair frame. "I would resign, but seeing as I don't officially belong here, I guess I don't have to give you any notice" Faux chipper fell off her tongue – too angry to process the information and realize the severity of the situation.

"Cassandra. I am –"

"Rule number six" She found herself saying for the second time today. "I don't care anyway Leon. There are no more siblings to sacrifice" her comment seemed flippant, but the three of them knew to what extent her comment was wholly true. Once again, she relished in the uneasy silence that she had instilled upon them all. She had nothing left to give NCIS as they took it all away from her by force and left her to deal with it all alone.

Unclenching her fists from the chair frame she made her way to the door, but was stopped by Grangers body moving swiftly to block her exit.

"Isn't there a rule about asking for forgiveness instead of permission?" He asked, a hint of desperation in his voice

"Rule number 18. But you aren't allowed to quote the rules" She spat, grasping the door handle. He shut the door straight after she tried to open it.

"We need your help" he stated, ignoring the look of complete awe on Cassandras face – she couldn't believe the audacity of it all.

"Really? What now – a kidney?" Her sarcasm was her defence, but it did not alleviate the tension.

"Korablyov"

"Rule 28, right?" Leon added, standing up. "Granger, please can you leave us alone"

Much like Cassandra had done before, Granger hesitated to comply, but did so, shooting her a vacant look before taking his leave. And with his departure, yet another wave of silence came over the interrogation room, broken by the positioning of the second chair below the table.

"We need you to get any information you can from Korablyov about the Ubiytsa's return. He's your contact." He closed the file and extended it before her "I wouldn't have asked any of this of you if I'd have had a choice" His words were sincere, but it didn't make any of it hurt any less.

"I broke Rule number 3. I didn't double check what you said to me. I thought you were telling the truth" She replied, just as sincere "And although you have broken _so_ many…" She grabbed the file "The one that hurt the most was rule 15"

"And what one is that?"

"Always work as a team, Leon. Something you constantly insist on negating" She sighed and took the file from him, sending it straight into the bin that was beside the door.

Cassandra opened the door and walked into the crowded room, seven sets of eyes before her. She stood, deadpanned, having forgotten the flat screen they had probably just been staring at, watching the entire conversation. Although she cared very little what people thought, she had never been comfortable about showing any sort of emotion to anyone – let alone a room full of strangers. As she made her way towards the door, Granger called out to her – his final attempt.

"You leave now; hundreds of people will die"

Once more she came to a dead stop just a meter away from the door, defeated by the truth of his words.

She turned and glared at him.

"You have an agency full of agents Granger. Use them" She spoke matter-of-factly, her hand gesturing towards the guys that shared the room with them. She looked from Granger to Leon, who joined the rabble, then from Nate to Hetty, all of their eyes imploring her help. She sighed, resigned, but still angry.

 _I'm going to regret this._

"Кто-нибудь здесь говорят России?" She asked the group if any of them spoke Russian. She needed back up – but it was a necessity.

To her surprise, Callen replied "Я могу говорить по-русски" ( _I can speak Russian)_

"Родной уровень?" ( _Native level?)_

"Вероятно, лучше, чем вы"( _Probably better than you)_

She smirked and turned, beckoning him to come. Although her first impression of this man was terrible, there were three men than definitely beat him on the hate scale. Leon Vance, Owen Granger and The Ubiytsa – also known as Joshua Wyatt.


	5. Chapter 5 - Two out of Three

**A/N: As always, the reviews, favs and follows inspired me to get this one out! It was almost double the size - but I've decided to split it into two parts!**

 **Thank-you angel897, mefoote, Country Girl and Beststoriesever for you amazing reviews! Thank-you Spirit92 for adding this story to your favourites! and to mefoote, Spirit92, Beststoriesever and Heartless-Princess33 for the follows.**

 **I hope that all of you, plus everyone else who reads, keep enjoying this story as much as i love creating it! :)**

* * *

7:30 am. Not Callens' usual time to be wondering around the marina. Surprising as it might sound, and knowing that criminals don't often wait until sociable hours kicked in to undertake their dirty deeds, it had been a while since Callen watched the sun rising over Los Angeles. It wasn't a romantic gesture at all. It was just the depiction of him spending another night doing anything but sleeping.

His thoughts fell upon the altercation he had just witnessed. Part of him was impressed with the stance this Cassandra Wyatt had taken against the authority figures; especially against Granger. He relished in the face he wore when he practically had to beg for her help. At the same time, it was unnerving that she seemed to have rule and reign over them. He, himself, knew that he could take that attitude with the likes of Hetty, to an extent, but he would have never acted with such malice and anger towards anyone like Cassandra hand done. Callen knew that there was a backstory there that he was concerned to learn, but until that time, he had to focus on the moment at hand. Either that or go home to sleep.

Abandoning his need for sleep, he picked up the pace in his step to meet the position of the woman that walked quickly just a couple of meters in front of him. Maybe he could get some answers now that she had let loose her wrath on the gentlemen in the interrogation room – or maybe she was still on an anger high. Either way, it couldn't really dampen his mood anymore – but he did deserve to know where they were going, right?

"Who is Korablyov?" He asked. It was an appropriate question, taking into account that this person seemed to be the reason that they were working under Granger's request and probably the reason that Russian was a necessity.

"Vitaly Korablyov. Russian QDE. Very good at his job. He has been my supplier for fake documentation since I can remember." She replied bluntly "Sourced a few of my agency alias's thinking that I was working for the Russian FSS – he didn't realize that it was simply because I didn't want NCIS to track me" Her voice was lighter than it had been in their first conversation, yet it was still stern. Her answer had, though, produced more questions that Callen could process. He needed coffee.

"Why would he think you were working for the Russian FSS?" He asked, stopping with her as they reached the vehicle he and Hetty has used to make their way to the boathouse that morning. He assumed that this was her way of suggesting he needed to drive to their destination. Not taking his eyes off the woman on the other side of the car, he tapped his back pocket to ensure the car keys were there.

"Because that's what I told him" She shrugged as if that answer truly sufficed. Callen couldn't tell whether she was being evasive or not, either way, he wasn't finished. There was so much more that he felt he needed to know.

"Look" She said, just as he opened his mouth to speak. "I know what it is like to be in the dark in an operation." She raised her eyebrow and waved her right hand towards the boathouse "As you heard from my conversation with our _wonderful leaders_ …" sarcasm, of course "… I have lived in that situation a number of times so…" She stopped and scrunched her nose as if debating whether or not to continue with her line of thought. She did. "If I ask that you trust me in that the less you know about who Korablyov is - for now…" She added quickly, seeing Callen's look of disbelief "… the better this little mission will go." She paused, knowing that asking some complete stranger to trust you wasn't an easy task. "If you do that then I will allow you to ask me three questions about anything regarding this fiasco that is _Primrose_ and I promise not only to answer in full, but to add any extra information that I believe will complement the answer. Ok?" she raised both hands and acted out scales, physically weighing both possibilities in front of him.

Callen contemplated the proposal for a moment. Trusting her was something that was almost out of the question. He assumed that she was one of Hetty's projects, much like him, Sullivan, Hunter and Stevens. His mind took him back to when the latter had appeared on the scene three years ago – that's when he had begun to understand the extensiveness of Hetty's reach; but that wasn't enough for him to just open up and trust a random woman. That hadn't gone well for him so far. However, if they were only going to see some document examiner – it couldn't be all that bad right?

"Firstly, why three?" He asked.

She shrugged, again. "Just the first number that popped into my head"

"Alright" He grabbed the keys out of his pocked "And secondly, what do you get out of this?" He asked, curious as to what her answer may be.

And he was surprised. She smiled as him and walked to the other side of the car a simply replied with:

"Breakfast"

* * *

Nate stood nervously staring at the door from which Cassandra and Callen had departed moments before. Of all of the scenarios he had dreamt up about what would happen that morning, he couldn't have even begin to fathom out how this particular one came to pass. Sure, he had expected Cassandra not to take well to the conversation with Vance and, of course, the second he had seen Granger enter the building, he was sure that she would not have been able to keep her cool – but the switch in play that she had demonstrated at the end had caught him off guard.

Unsurprisingly, Cassandra had originally resided herself to letting them clear up the mess that NCIS had created in respect to the _Ubiytsa_ , but the turnaround in her decision was slightly uncalled for. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had just walked out on them, leaving Granger and Vance to their own devices. He would have put his hand in the fire to back that up the moment he heard Granger admit that they had used Cassandra to goad their target out of hiding. For her to take the moral high ground and actually help wasn't just odd in regards to the situation at hand, but for Cassandra. As much as he had grown to respect the agent – there were few times that he had seen her put herself before others. " _You get what you give – and I don't want anything"_ she'd always say. He'd put it down to bad experiences, but it still didn't take away the fact that her agreeing to help despite everything was incongruous.

"Is anyone going to explain that?" Nate turned to see Deeks looking around the room for an explanation, one that he too was awaiting with anticipation. He knew only part of the story and was eager to fill in the gaps as soon as possible. He didn't want to have to wait for another attack. Too much blood was spent already.

"Take a seat Detective Deeks; all of you" Granger spoke to the room. All complied, except Hetty, who stood, arms crossed, glaring at the assistant director. Nate was sure that there would be a private conversation that would follow this unorthodox meeting, and for once he would refuse to be a fly on the wall for that one. If there is one thing that he had learnt from his time under Hetty's rule, it's that big things come in small packages. Big, scary things.

Nate noticed the assistant director glance over at Hetty before taking a step back to allow Director Vance to address the floor. It seemed that he too was aware of the severity of the intentions that Hetty wore so elegantly on her features. Granger showed no emotions. Nate burrowed his eyebrows, intent on understanding why. But for now, he wouldn't have time to analyse the assistant director in full, as director Vance pulled out half a dozen files, replicas of the one Cassandra had thrown in the trash, and handed them out to the agents as he spoke.

"Operation _Primrose_ is an international co-op mission that has been running for over a decade" Vance began

"Co-op with who?" Sam interjected, his disapproval of the situation clear in his voice. Nate noted that it was probably due to the fact his partner was, figuratively, dragged away by a complete stranger who had, just before, demonstrated some of her psychopathic tendencies. _Understandable._

"That's classified, Agent Hanna" Granger replied in his typical taciturn manner, deepening Sam's disgruntled persona.

"FBI, CIA, SDECE, NCA… too many acronyms to count for, Mister Hanna" Hetty interposed, ignoring the glare that the assistant director was shooting her "It's a little late for all that nonsense, don't you believe Owen? The proverbial cat is out of the bag" she subtly gestured towards the door "I think full disclosure is going to get us further than red taping the unnecessary"

The agents silently commemorated their fearless leader. Fireworks were mentally set off to pay tribute for how awesome she really was when she played mother hen to her 'coop'. Their silent commemoration didn't go unnoticed by Leon, who showed a small sign of a smile on his own lips. Henrietta Lang. Enough said.

"Alright" Leon continued, reaching out to a copy of the file that was in front of him. "This operation was put together in the effort to seek, subdue and apprehend a man known to the agency as the _Ubiytsa_ " He placed the surveillance photos for all to see, along with a Russian military I.D. "Birth name; Dzhoshua Volkov. Alias: Joshua Wyatt"

"Wyatt?" Kensi spoke, voicing the question that all agents were asking themselves. The three field agents exchanged nervous glances, their thoughts with Callen and whoever he had left with.

"The _Ubiytsa_ is Cassandras brother" Hetty answered.

There was nothing to describe the vacuum that had seemingly englobed the group. The shock of the proximity at which they were imminently going to be working with the soon to be realized maniac that was Joshua Wyatt had taken over them and left them without words. Leon took this opportunity to continue with the debriefing, sure that they would not interrupt further due to their striking curiosity.

"Volkov, 43, was a member of the _VMF Rossii,_ the Russian naval service" he explained to those who did not know "He was honourably discharged in 1998, due to a medical condition, and moved into the intelligence service, where it is thought that he was recruited by the darker side of the FSS, run by KGB activists" He placed pictures of four older men; one of which jumped out of the photo line-up. "Boris and Adrik Nikolaev, Alik Aleksandrov and Arkady Kolcheck, among others"

Leon paused for a moment, allowing the information to sink in. He watched Hetty's eyes move from agent to agent, settling them on their occupational psychologist who looked as white as a sheet. He followed her sightline and burrowed his eyebrows. Had he not known?

"Volkov grew through the ranks, finally infiltrating the British intelligence service, under the name Joshua Wyatt, using their mother's maiden name." Granger continued, taking advantage of the director's pause. He could tell that the agents were trying hard to put all these complicated pieces together. It would take more than a quick debriefing to get them to fully understand the severity of the situation, but they didn't have time. Hetty would have to occupy the curiosity of her team on her own time. "He has been linked to the intellectual property theft of over a dozen major military operations, biochemical warfare agents and fell upon our raider 15 years ago when he managed to orchestrate the transference of a strain of Group V _Mononegavirales_ , from a lab in the Democratic Republic of Congo"

"The original Ebola?" Sam asked, clearly the only one that was keeping up with the information.

"Yes. It was developed as a precautionary measure which he stole to hold the American nation at his ransom" it was nor the time nor place to get into the intricacies of that particular operation.

"As a precautionary measure. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that Granger" Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"The U.S. paid for the return of the virus. Unbeknown to us at the time, he had cloned the strain" Leon continued "He resurfaced three years ago, demanding the release a series of ISIS members from various prisoner of war camps, stating that if the United States did not comply with his demands, thousands of people would be killed which would devastate this agency"

Nate noticed the director's introspection. Self-scrutiny apparent on his features.

"Of course, he stayed true to his word." Granger elaborated "Over 8000 people were killed in Guinea, Liberia and Sierra Leone, all countries that hosted major mission groups that worked for NCIS, CIA and FBI. The agencies lost years of intelligence regarding arms, drugs and human trafficking from the coast of Africa."

"Not to mention all those people, right?" Deeks added sarcastically, eyeing the assistant director with distain. "So what has goldilocks have to do with this?" He asked, referring to Callen's morning companion.

Both gentleman looked at one another then towards Hetty, who they were silently asking to continue on with this conversation.

"Well, Mister Deeks. Where shall I begin?"

* * *

"So…" Callen began, sitting back in the plastic chair that belonged to the establishment he'd chosen for their morning meal. He'd ordered himself the full breakfast sandwich and the biggest cup of strong coffee that they offered. Protein and caffeine – the perfect combination for what was already presenting itself as being an eventful day. Cassandra had jumped on the 'ein(e)' bandwagon, finishing the remnants of her sandwich with as much eagerness as he. _She must have been hungry_ , he mused to himself, taking a sip of his coffee.

Their trip had been a quiet as he drove them down Pacific Avenue and into Santa Monica, the only destination request the blonde beside him has asked. Callen assumed that the location of their target, Korablyov, was probably around this area. He did not pursue, of course. His head was still trying to figure this woman out. As he sat on the beach side veranda, his thoughts were still trying to find their place, but he had contemplated the question long enough and was sure that it would get enough information to start the rest of the day on a higher note.

Cassandra Wyatt glanced over at him as he began what she thought was the first of the three questions she had allowed him to ask of her. She lifted the disposable cup to her lips, smiling into the liquid, awaiting his first 'attack'.

"What ties do you have with Russia?" he asked, looking towards her.

Her smile grew, hidden by the edges of the cup. He had obviously thought that one through. Efficient at fishing for as much information as possible. Broad question. _Good choice_. Unfortunately for her, she was against going back on one's word and was morally obligated to comply with her previous promise. "You do realize that I said I'd answer questions about _Primrose,_ right?"

He looked as if she had suddenly screamed that the sky was the colour blue. "It is, sort of."

She rolled her eyes and acquiesced the agent. "I was born there" She replied, placing the base of the cup on her lap, her hands still linked around it, absorbing the warmth. Cassandra noticed him eye her up, either because of her previous statement of being a British national, or because she had sworn that she would reply with more information than a four worded answer. Both, probably. She let him stew for a second more, before continuing to formulate the most specific answer she could muster.

"My mother was Irish. My father Russian. Dual nationality." She took another sip of her coffee and shifted into a more comfortable position. "They met while on separate assignments. Mother for the IRA and my father was, KGB, I guess. Although, he never admitted it." She paused momentarily to ensure the accuracy of her story "Yeah, so, they were the original Mr. and Mrs. Smith." A small smile flickered on her lips, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared and it hadn't been as inconspicuous as she had hoped. Callen noticed.

Callen watched as she stood and began to walk down the steps of the balcony, onto the boulevard. He quickly joined her as they walked northbound, silently waiting for her to continue.

"I grew up in Barvikha, until I moved to England when I was 8… 9? Maybe?" she questioned herself. She let it go quickly, aware that the exact details were not important. "I love vodka. Oh, and I have worked with the Russian FSS, both for and against." she added, finishing off the coffee, crumpling the polystyrene cup and throwing it into the first trash can that they passed.

"Really?" He asked, inquiring more into the flippancy by which she added her final comment "And now? You for or against?"

She rolled her head on her shoulders to look into his ice blue eyes, small smile returning to her face "That's another three questions. Care to re-think your line of questioning?" She bit her lip to stifle the laughter at his incredulous look. "Yes really. And now – neither" She replied, frankly. "And I won't count them towards your questions"

"Ah! Thanks!" He expressed the incredulity from his face in his voice. Her sense of humor was interesting. Although she probably felt the same sense of discomfort in the situation, it did not show in her mannerisms. Callen, however, showed much less resistance to the confusion this whole situation was instilling within him. This woman seemed like a completely different creature to the one he had spoken to just two hours ago.

"Пожалуйста" ( _you're welcome)_ She replied, smile still on her face, adding to Callen's bewilderment. He couldn't get his head around her.

It may have taken two cups of coffee and a sandwich for her to realize that although Agent Callen wouldn't have made her Christmas list, had she ever had one, but he wasn't as terrible as she had previously thought. _Couldn't work with the guy long term_ , she mused, her face now in her hands as she wiped away the final remnants of her sleepy self into the air. _But not a bad agent, probably._ She didn't even have a moment to enjoy this new re-juvenescence before another question came her way.

"What's your story with Gibbs?" He asked without reticence.

'Wow' she mouthed, taking a moment to consider the answer. "That's difficult to answer" She spoke more to herself than Callen, though it did not stop him from inquiring.

"Why is that?" he released the coffee cup into the trash, stretching out his arms, continuing to walk at her pace along the beach side path.

"Because most of that story is classified. However, it is actually _Primrose_ related." Cassandra scrunched up her nose, a gesture Callen had already noted happened when she debated with herself whether she should voice her thought process or not; and much like before, she did.

"I first met Gibbs about 15 years ago." She smiled at the memory. "First of many joint task forces trying to catch the _Ubiytsa_ on U.S. Soil – details can be given later" She conspicuously looked around her, evidently not comfortable with revealing information of that calibre in public. "To cut a long story short – it went terribly wrong, all my fault and Gibbs was there to pick up the pieces. Became more than family" She lost the smile and remained lackadaisical, looking down at the watch on her wrist.

Just as Callen was about to enquire in to the identity of the _Ubiytsa_ , she stopped walking.

"There he is" She whispered, looking over at an aged man, in his 50's entering only what could be described as a make shift travel agency.

"You sure?" He immediately regretting the question as she rolled her eyes at him, her expression somewhere between disgust and annoyance. "Alright then" he added, mimicking her mannerism.

"Ok. Backstory." She said, her eyes directly set on the door where the man had entered. "My name is Sandry Volkov. You are a Russian national looking for papers to stay in the U.S." She glanced over at him "Simple, right?" She began to move towards the building.

"Is that it?" Callen was dubious with the divvy of roles on a normal day. Only with Sam did he ever feel happy just walking up to a place with nothing more than a name, even then it was always touch and go.

"If he asks, you got my name from Kolcheck" She said over her shoulder, light footed and fast paced, ignoring the 'Keep Off The Grass' signs that littered the small amount of grass land that bordered the boulevard and plazas. His heart skipped a beat at the sound of that name. He rushed to her side and grabbed her arm, a little more forcefully than he intended.

"Arkady? Arkady Kolcheck?" He hissed, pulling her into his body "What's your business with Arkady?"

"Let. go. of. me." And there she was. The woman that he had met in the morning. Direct with a hint of danger. He did not do as she asked. "Callen. I will explain later" She tried to move, but he had yet to release her

"You have got to give me more than that, _Sandry_ " He implored, loosening the grip slightly.

Her body language was oxymoronic at best. Her eyes relinquished the anger, but her body remained tense and ready to react. Callen didn't know whether he wanted to find out what her reaction would be if he kept her under duress for much longer – but he was half inclined to find out.

"Arkady was my handler." She spat, pulling on her arm. "Now, please, come, before anyone sees us"

Reluctantly, he released her and sighed in an exasperated manner. She lingered, impatiently waiting for him to move. He hesitantly renounced all reason, and gestured towards the building, sighing as he did so. He could see her almost smile, before turning and making her way to the door.

"I want more than three questions when this is over" he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and texting their co-ordinates to Eric.

 _Just in case._


	6. Chapter 6 - Like a hole in the head

**A/N: Once again, I am blown away by your continued support and the new favs/follows/reviews that I get with each chapter. I would like to thank you all, especially Hoosier65, Beststoriesever, angel897 and the wonder Guest for taking time to review :D To poppyland and LacyMarie97 for adding this story to your favourites! And finally to brmaria10, GamerGirl818, CJK2016, -xx and LacyMarie97 for the follow.**

 **I am so grateful to all of the who have in the past/present and will in the future follow/fav/review/read and also to those who have followed me as an author. I hope that I continue to deserve such wonderful responses!**

* * *

The shop was as decrepit as she had remembered. The posters that suggested that it was indeed a travel agency were peeling of the damp covered walls, along with the white paint that was tinged black; the stench of the mould filling her nostrils the moment she pushed the door open. There was a small golden bell that rang sadly throughout the reception, indicating the presence of a 'customer', which she was sure he'd realize she was.

"Coming, Coming…" she heard, thick Russian accent drooling over the simple acknowledgement the aged man had given from the back room.

Cassandra waited, holding the door open momentarily for Callen to join her in the little box shaped foyer, dead plants in three of the corners, the fourth was occupied by a small desk with a filing cabinet, filled with all of the fake documentation that Korablyov had put together to deepen the façade of a travel agency. He was good at his job, fooling many of the agencies in the past that had tried to uncover this reality behind this 'front'. His paper work was _always_ in order, _all_ expenses accounted for and _never_ enough holes to pick to even suggest that this was the office of one of the most prolific and intelligent sleeper agents that had provided more than just Russian nationals with a way into America. This was deeper than that; the first step into the territory of 'home grown' terrorists.

"Nice place" Callen muttered, his uncertainty and annoyance apparent in his tone. She didn't have time to indulge in his founded apprehension as the man they were here to see came through the door at the back of the reception area and stared, dumbfounded at the pair.

"Sandry?" His question was sated of disbelief, with a slight hint of terror. _Good._ He remembered her

"Korablyov" She replied, nonchalant, allowing the door to close behind them, slowly. She was sure that had any amount of force been used on this door, it would fall straight off its hinges, exposing them to the passers-by. Although she would have been in her right mind to lock the door, it would have proven futile with the current lock that was on the door; a bolt that a kick would destroy.

Her eyes had turned cold as she glanced towards the man at her side and back to Korablyov, rubbing his hands together in nervous anticipation.

"I have a job for you" She spoke in Russian now, hoping that Callen would follow suit. Although the backstory held no real importance, it would have to be such that all spoke in their 'mother-tongue'. Callen was a Russian that needed papers – who didn't necessarily speak any English. "Quick Quick!" She pushed Callen towards the man, surprise apparent on his face. She would have to explain later – but for now, he just needed to follow her. _Or they'd both be in trouble._

"What do you need me to do?" He asked her, not taking his eyes off the woman.

The cold from her eyes switched instantly to a raging shade of anger. "What do you think?" She spat, taking one step towards him. He inversely mirrored her actions, his back now against the door from where he had exited.

"Yes ma'am" He whispered, turning towards Callen and allowing him to pass through the door first, not before sending her a quizzical look.

"Be quick about it Koralyov, I don't have all day" She shouted through the closing door, unable to give Callen any further explanations… well, further would suggest she had even bothered to give him any.

 _I'll deal with him later_ she mused, knowing that a game of 21 million questions would await her after they left.

As the door closed, she relaxed, trying to shake off the anger that Sandry sparked inside her. She had been playing three roles in less than 24 hours. Rachel, Cassandra and now the worst of all – Herself.

She pushed her shoulders back, hearing the click of the tension between her shoulder blades being released under the strain, probably a result of the flying and the awkward landing that she had experienced that morning. Seemed like it was days ago and not hours since she had literally been thrown back into this situation; but now was not time to dwell on that. She had a job to do, and she didn't have too long to do it.

Glancing around her surroundings she took note of the laptop computer that was on the desk in the far corner of the room. She hopped over and took a seat at the desk, tapping on the laptops mouse pad to bring it out of hibernation. Silently swearing at the fact it was password protected _(go figure)_ , she reached into her pocket and took out the USB stick that Hetty had slipped into the bag, along with the clothes. It was at this moment that she realized that Hetty had probably known about where this morning's conversation was going to bring her simply by the fact that she had thrown in the Kingston Data-Traveler HyperX Predator 1TB USB 3.0 Flash Drive, equipped with, what Cassandra assumed was, the latest version of the CAINE Linux based forensic software.

"Alrighty" She murmured to herself, restarting the laptop and entering the BIOS to boot the laptop from the USB and execute the hard drive copying software.

She hadn't noticed until now that her left leg was moving as if she were sat at a sewing machine. It had been a while since she had felt the nerves of working in the field and felt a small satisfactory smile twist on her lips as she listened to hear whether Vitaly and Callen were making their way back. They were not. She estimated that she had about 10 minutes to image the laptop, which she was happy to see that was only a 100G. That was an average of 4 minutes and 35 seconds, if she remembered her Gigabyte by gbps correctly.

The black and orange CAINE screen came up on the desktop and she immediately opened the terminal, typing in the command:

dd if=/dev/sda of=/dev/sdb

Hitting the enter key, she waited for the hard drive to copy. It annoyed her that there wasn't a progress bar, but it didn't matter, it would be finished before there was any chance that she were caught.

She set the screen to black and pushed herself back, cricking her neck by slowly turning her head until she felt the tension dissipate. She closed her eyes, intent on listening to the two men that were hidden away in the back room, yet she found herself thinking about her relationship with Vitaly and how much she had wished to never have to step into Sandry's shoes again.

The first time she had met Vitaly was when she was 19. Her first trip to the U.S. was anything but uneventful. The hate and resentment that she had been festering since the death of her parents had turned the young spoilt rich girl into a poor and stroppy teen and, subsequently, into a dangerous, blood thirsty young adult.

She wouldn't say that she had been indoctrinated, but she had been severely influenced by those that had flocked around the three Volkov children when the head of the family was shot in his home. By the powers that were invested in them, and their influence over the government, the old KGB informatives had divvied the responsibilities of the kids and estate between them. The eldest child, Dzhoshua, 14, to whom the entire Volkov estate was bestowed, was sent to a boarding school in Moscow, under the custody of Alik Aleksandrov, their fathers cousin. The two daughters, Sandry, 8 and Katya, 3, were sent to their maternal aunt in England, a keepsake for a later day.

Having just graduated from The Ministry of Defence Academy, as a computer analyst and civilian liaison with the British Military, it was predicted that Cassandra would have a bright future in the intelligence agencies – a route that she had always promised herself to stay away from. Both her parents had died because of their affiliations with government agencies, but it had come naturally to her and who was she to deny nature?

That bright future came to a head as she said goodbye to her fellow graduates, bumping into the one person she had never thought she'd see again.

"Joshua" She whispered to herself, sighing as she fell back into her memories.

Naively, she had fallen straight into her brother's grasp, having missed him terribly since their separation. She was just an influential teenager. He had convinced her that it was the Americans fault that they had been separated and that she and her sister were condemned to live in a country that was not their own. He had told her of a contact her had acquired in America that would help her enact the revenge that they so desperately wanted against the American government for taking from her everything that she ever had. Even today, Cassandra believed every word that her brother had told her back then, however – she held the Russian operatives under the same umbrella and since she found out the truth, Joshua was at the top of her 'who-to-blame' list.

He had offered her a ticket to go to America to meet his contact and start the Volkov revolution that was needed, promising that he would be there as soon as possible to join her. She took it, of course, on the condition that watched over Katya while she was away.

How naïve of her.

She had left the following morning. That was the last time that she had seen Katya alive.

It was in Washington that Cassandra had met Arkady and Vitaly. They provided her with her first ever 'new identity', Cassandra Wyatt, the Americanisation of her birth name and her mother's maiden name. _Fitting_ ; she had always thought. This ended up being her most permanent identity, one that she would use for and against America and the Russians.

Sandry Volkov's attitude had always been brute, hence the way she spoke to the man who was to return imminently to the reception area. But there were further motives for her attitude. He was afraid of her, and so he should be. He had met and known her only as the silent killer and sister of the _Ubiytsa_ , both widow makers in their own right; unhinged, unemotional and unrepentant. But she had always brought him good business, ergo his instant compliance.

Cassandra sighed once more, tapping the mouse pad lightly revealing the completed operation. She smiled as she unmounted the USB, taking it out before restarting the computer, returning it to the log on screen it was on before she had taken a copy of his hard drive.

"Too Easy" She said victoriously as she stood up and pocketed the USB.

The next thing she heard was the sound of the bell ringing throughout the reception area, the woman that had entered pointing a gun straight at her.

 _Spoke too soon._

* * *

The boatshed was deathly quiet. The agents sat silently, digesting the long and complicated story that Hetty had shared with them in regards to _goldilocks,_ as Deeks called Cassandra. They knew of her relation with Joshua, they had been given an overview of her transient affiliations with a variety of government agencies all over the world and had been assured by the three senior members of NCIS that her intentions were not to bring harm to any of them.

Nate could tell that none of the agents before him were able to believe that, which he couldn't blame them for. They had just been told that a chameleon agent had taken Callen on a mission without revealing any of this information to him, and there was no definite guarantee, in their eyes, that she was even on their side. Had he not worked with her in the past, he would be on their side of the fence, yet, now he knew the whole story, or at least as much as the senior agents were willing to divulge, he felt like he didn't know the woman he had brought here in the early hours in the morning; because, in reality, he didn't. However, he had placed his life in her hands so many times that he couldn't count and yet he was still alive and well. He would stick by her until the end.

 _That's what partners do._

"Do you have something to say Mister Getz?" Hetty broke the silence, her stance almost comical stood on the far right of Granger and Vance at the end of the table. Nate shook his head, answering the query as well as trying to make all of the information in his head settle in his brain. Like boggle.

"Well, I think that it's time we go back to Ops. We want to be able to act as soon as-" Hetty was cut off by the screen behind her coming to life and Eric's worried face coming on the screen.

"Good morning Mister Beal" Hetty spoke, turning to look at the screen, all pleasantries flying out of the window as he jumped straight in to why he was interrupting their session.

"You have to see this" with what seemed to be a click of a button, a video feed popped up next to his own window. "Callen sent me his location, so I hooked into the traffic cams, just in case. Lucky I did. Just moments before the message, I got this…" The room jumped to life, all agents on their feet and in front of the monitor, already fearing the worst. They watched intently, watching at Callen grabbed Cassandra by the arm. "…a minute later they enter the building." The video showed Cassandra's and Callen's figures disappear into the travel agency. "Five minutes ago, an unmarked black van appeared outside the building, dropping off a woman who I've identified as Ana Maria Marquez, 48…" The driving licence of the woman appeared on the screen. "… no known affiliation with any Russian groups. However, -" Eric paused the video and zoomed into the woman, revealing a firearm in her left hand.

"Did you call G?" Sam interjected, his entire body language screaming violence

"He's not answering. GPS tracker shows he's still in the building and…" the video continued as a live feed "No-one has left the building since." Eric's face twisted into an awkward expression.

"Go!" Hetty ordered to the agents. All four agents checked themselves for their phones, guns and keys and made their ways out of the boatshed and to Santa Monica, leaving the three senior agents in an oh too similar situation; Watching the live feed, hoping beyond hope that none of their agents leave the building in a body bag.

* * *

Callen sat on the other side of a wobbly mahogany table, signing the pieces of paper that were being placed in front of him.

"There you go." The man said nervously "You are now officially Michael Reed. May I interest you in a contact of mine that teaches wonderful English?" He forced a smile upon his old and tired face.

It didn't get past Callen the false pleasantries that were being thrown his way. He put it down to the obvious respect and/or fear that he had for the woman that remained just a few meters away from them. Maybe Vitaly didn't want 'Pavel Kvasha' (the first name that had popped into his head) to say that he had been mistreated? What had she done to cause this man to act in such a way?

 _She's going to be bombarded with questions when I get my hands on her_ – he mused in irritation.

"No thank-you. Sandry has already provided me with names" He replied, placing his hand on the envelope within which Vitaly had placed all the documentation. Immediately after he picked up the envelope, his hand was slammed down onto the table.

"Beware" He warned, his eyes wide "Please. She is never alone." His warning turned to a genuine imploration and he did not seem to want to release him, but the sound of a shot being fired just outside the door caused the immediate release of his hand, as Callen jumped up, grabbed his gun and opened the door to see Cassandra stood with her back to the door, her hands in the air, shaking slightly, her body obfuscating the view of the Mexican woman who had just shot herself in the head through her mouth.

Callen rushed to the woman's side, kicking the gun away from her limp hand. "You ok?" He asked, fading quickly out of his Russian façade that he had been so engrossed in for the past 10 minutes. It was obvious to him that she was not ok, her eyes fixated on the woman that lay dead in the reception area. "Cassandra?!" For a moment, she remained still, her hands still trembling by her head until Callen touched her shoulder, when her eyes moved to bare into his own.

It took Cassandra less than three seconds to slip back into her Russian self – an ability that inspired a certain admiration in Callen, were it not for the terrible act that was to follow.

Cassandra turned and rushed to the old man, screaming at him for an explanation. Who was the woman? What did she want? How did she know she was here? Who had he told? Callen tried his hardest to interject and explain that it was impossible that he had told anyone since they had arrived. He had been with him the entire time. But it did not compute. She did not listen. And before he knew it she had drawn a gun and was pointing it at the old man's head.

"Wait! STOP!" Callen shouted, his own gun now pointing towards the agent. "Cassandra, calm down!"

A moment later, he was joined by the other members of his team, all with their weapons drawn and pointing at the blonde who had now placed the barrel of the gun against the crying man's head.

"Cassandra! No!" Nate pushed through the four agents and stood a metre away from his partner, looking at her quizzically, trying to analyse what was going on.

"Get back Nate!" Callen ordered, pulling on his shoulder – he didn't want to be without a clear shot of Cassandra if this went ugly.

"How. Did. He. Know?" If a single word could kill, Vitaly Korablyov would have died four times already. "HOW?!" – five.

"The camera" The old man whimpered out, pointing at the air vent just above the front door. "He put it in last week. He said you would come" he sobbed.

"What else did he say Korablyov?" His silence caused for her to push harder on his forehead, which in turn caused the agents to glance apprehensively at each other. They had no idea what was going on or what sort of fire they were playing with.

"Korablyov!" She warned, instigating an instant response

"He wanted you to remember your mission. Where it started. He said you needed to remember" His voice was laced with all the tears and fears of a man who believed he was going to die. Callen believed that too.

To Callen's surprised, Cassandra visibly relaxed, holding out the gun that was in her hand towards him, which he stepped to retrieve. It wasn't even loaded. _So it was all an act?_

All agents glanced nervously around, lowering their weapons, re-sheathing them. However, none of them relaxed. They stood strong, ready for any more unexpected revelations.

"The camera above the door will show the entire incident" Cassandra spoke, in English. Finally looking towards Callen. Her eyes had lost the rage that had filled them to the brim just a second before. He put his gun away and threw the unloaded weapon back at her.

"I never said I thought it was you" He ensured her. He didn't need her to explain, or camera evidence to explain what had happened. The fear in her eyes he saw when he had snapped her out of her shock was enough for him, plus, its hard to shoot someone with an unloaded gun. Yet she continued...

"The woman entered, told me to raise my hands and stand in front of the door." She looked over to Nate "I assume it was so he could have an HD view of my face as I watched the woman shoot herself" Callen noted that they exchanged a knowing glance. His frustration was beginning to show as he took a moment to look towards his partner, who was wearing a very similar expression on his face. He was going to have more than just strong words with Hetty about this.

"Are you ok?" Nate asked, stepping towards her. She held her hands up in front of her in a defensive stance as she nodded, and stepped around him, making her way to the exit.

Nate made a move to follow, but Callen grabbed his arm before he made it to the door.

"Leave her" He ordered the doctor, for the second time.

Resigned, Nate nodded, looking over towards the sobbing man.

"Nate, take him back to the boatshed. I'll get to him later. Kensi, Deeks – "he turned towards them "Camera, laptop, files – anything you think is worth have a look at, get it to Eric and Nell. I want to know everything." The nodded and complied with the order. Finally, he looked at Sam, who was looking at him with more than disbelief.

"I don't like this G. Not one bit"

"You and me both." G pulled out his phone, his intention to call the ME but it was off. He tried to turn it on and all he could see was a small dead battery sign on the display.

"You realise you are supposed to charge that right?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at his partner before grabbing his phone to make the call.

"Yeah – well, i didn't get home last night so…" He trailed off and shrugged. It wasn't important. What was important was getting some answers. He looked around the room, surprised at all that had happened in just 20 minutes from Cassandra walking in and her leaving them side with a whimpering man, a dead Mexican and a million questions.

* * *

To know that her brother could foresee her actions made her feel almost dirty inside. Last week she had been walking to and from work as Rachel Moretti, spending her days pretending to care about patients and her evenings sat in front of the TV with tiger…

 _Tiger_

In all the commotion, she had revealed once more that she was not responsible enough to care for another living creature. She had forgotten entirely about the turtle shell kitten as she stepped out of Rachel's shoes and into her other alias. It saddened her and made her angry – adding to the anger that was yet to cool after watching a woman shoot herself in the face, all orchestrated by the psychopath that was her other brother and all for the second time in her life.

She violently shook her head, warning herself not to go digging into the past any further than was needed. _That_ incident didn't need to be remembered right now. She knew now that she had to focus on the problem at hand – but that could wait a couple of hours. Right now she needed to go home, find her furry companion, most likely morn its loss, then grab a bottle of tequila and sit with her computer.

With the USB still in her pocket, she needed to analyse the hard drive image before Hetty's guys got a hold of the laptop – that way, she could find out anything that would help her end this thing once in for all, without having to follow their protocol.

"Either a bullet in your head, Joshua. Or a bullet in mine"


	7. Chapter 7 - Crazy Conversations

**A/N: Once again, I would like that thank everyone that takes time to read this story. Over 500 visitors to this story this month! That's crazy! Thank-you so much! And a special thank-you to angel897 for yet another review. It's because of people like you, that i continue to find inspiration!**

 **Enjoy :D**

She stood in front of her house – well, Rachel's house; The walls that she had dwelled within for the past nine months reduced to only three, the fourth in ruins and rubble on her front garden, result of the small gift her brother minions had sent her in the early hours of the morning. The yellow police tape was draped terribly over the façade, allowing each and every member of the public to see into the front room. It was lucky that she had nothing of value, sure that there would have already been a few hoarders lurking around to take anything they thought would make them a quick buck. The only things that would have been worth taking were the T.V. and potentially the laptop; the first of which had been destroyed by the explosion, and the second hidden within the floor safe that was hidden underneath her bed. They wouldn't have thought about that one – she hoped.

With a single can of tuna in her hand, she made her way over the rubble and into the ruins, hoping the spoilt little kitty would still be lingering around, unharmed and persuaded into revealing himself with the prospect of food.

The kitchen was pretty much untouched by the localized blast – a good thing for her, as her caffeine levels were dipping and the percolator was still in working order in the corner of the kitchen. She pressed the button to heat the water that was ready for her and opened the can of tuna, placing it in one of the bowls that lay on the draining board. Turning to place it on the floor, she noticed that the one she had laid out for Tiger yesterday remained untouched. _Not a good sign_ her cynical side mused, replacing it.

"Tiger. Tiiiigeeeer" she called, most likely in vain, but she had a moment to kill before the water was boiled and her caffeine fix was to be taken care of. "Come on" She looked around the kitchen, down the hall and hopped up the stairs, continuing her efforts to locate the animal.

Cassandra entered her bedroom and reached below the bed, removing the carpet tile to reveal the Burton Claymore safe that had been installed underneath. Tapping the passcode, it unlocked. She reached in a grabbed the 11 inch MacBook air that she intended to use to access the USB stick that remained in her pocket.

"Tiger!" She closed the safe and rushed back downstairs, still trying to locate the kitten. He was no-where to be seen. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that it was futile, throwing the laptop with force on the counter beside the percolator. Everything she touched died.

Mentally scolding herself for entering the dramatic zone, she began to prepare herself the coffee that she needed. Although Cassandra had never considered herself a dramatic person, having listened to the theatrics that were spewed from strangers mouths over the past year, she had grown even more adverse to the idea of 'feeling sorry for oneself'; it didn't bode well in life, and would certainly lead to an untimely demise. Not that she was against that idea at the moment, but the fact she had survived thus far was more of an indication of her luck than anything else.

Cassandra poured herself the cup of coffee and took a sip, allowing the warmth to settle beneath her skin before searching for the charger she'd need to be able to access the USB. She searched her memory to try and work out where she had last used the laptop, dread filling her body as she remembered it was, in fact, in the living room. She crossed her fingers as she stepped into the ruins that was her front room and began to search the rubble by the sockets hoping that the charger was still alive – it wasn't.

"Shit" she muttered, pulling out the melted cable that was still adjoined to the wall plug, adding to the already built up frustration that was settled in Cassandras stomach. She let the cable drop back within the rubble and found herself kicking the debris around her in a bitter attempt to release the tension in her body; unfortunately for her, she had clearly forgotten the pain that she had felt that morning in her ankle, kicking the back of the sofa at the strangest angle possible, sending those shooting pains through her leg once more.

"Shit shit shit!" She moaned bending her body to lean her hands on her knees. She had not heard Nate walk up the drive and stand in the opening where the window once was, only noticing him when he let a small laugh resonate through the tension in the living room.

"Shut up" she shot him a look of faux disgust, recognising his laugh.

"Hey hey – I said nothing" he held his hands up defensively, small smile still on his face.

"You were thinking, loudly" She replied standing up, pushing her shoulders back to hear her spine click. "How did you get here so fast?" She asked, walking towards the kitchen… and her coffee.

"Well, you walked and I drove" He began, entering the house and following her to the kitchen "Cars are faster than people" He spoke as if he were talking to a five year old, causing Cassandra to roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Do they know you are here?" Nates expression gave a clear response. "Can't catch a break" She muttered into her coffee cup. Having literally been alone for the past nine months, except for the occasional phone call from Vance, Cassandra was beginning to feel the strain already of having to count on other individuals input and interference. She couldn't deny that she was slightly relieved to not be living this nightmare alone – but she knew that she would not enjoy the protocols, rules and 'correct ways' that this _investigation_ would have to follow for anything they do (or she does) to be signed off and admissible, were it ever actually reach a court of law. Truth was, she was planning to end it before it got that far.

A smartass remark entered her mind and twisted a smile upon her face, but the sound of a mobile phone ringing in her cutlery draw caught them both of guard. She burrowed her eyebrows as she reached for it; 'Bratishka', a term of endearment for 'brother' appearing on the screen.

"It's him" Her voice, barely more than a whisper

"Really?" Nate responded alike.

"Yes really!" She rolled her eyes

"Well, answer it"

"What do I say?"

"How should I know?"

"You are no help." She threw her hands up in the air in frustration "Just, call whoever you need to trace a call" Cassandra ordered Nate, grabbing the phone, placing it on speaker with the intention to browse the phone to find the number she'd need to give Nate for the trace.

"To what to I owe this fabulous honour" she goaded, pressing the home button, searching the contacts to find the number allocated to the phone she had in her hand - She found it.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, _Cassandra_ " Even knowing who the phone call was from, the sound of his voice still sent chills down her spine. "Did you like my present?" Cassandra wrote the number down for Nate on the back of the coffee packet and threw it over to him before taking the call off speaker. She didn't need Nate to hear their conversation.

"You really shouldn't have – brain matter is not my colour" She replied with the same sarcasm, eyes wide to Nate, hoping whomever was sat at NCIS HQ was able to get some sort of trace on the bastard. All she needed was to keep him talking – not a difficult feat. He loved the sound of his own voice, and Cassandra knew only too well how to keep him talking.

 _Game on._

* * *

The office of special projects was full of the regular gabble; Eric and Nell sat on the far side, loading up the hard drive from Vitaly's laptop and the camera that Deeks had recovered from the air vent, respectively. Callen and Sam stood impatiently in front of the blank screen, waiting for the images to come up while Granger and Hetty stood either side of the pair in a similar fashion. Deeks and Kensi stood behind the centre desk, exchanging worried glances.

To say that their morning had been eventful was an understatement. They were used to having exciting days, but this was something else. It wasn't even 10 o'clock and they had already been in the field, picked up a dead body and had a sobbing man under surveillance in the boatshed for questioning.

"Mr Beal?" Hetty pushed for something more than their reflections to be on the big screen, her hands tucked deep in her pockets to avoid any unnecessary nervous movements. She too was feeling the strain of the overactive morning. There was not a cup of tea in the world that would calm her nerves right now; not even the Da Hong Pao that she had saved for especially stressful occasions. No. Maybe the bourbon? But not now. Now she had to focus on the case that was developing rapidly before their eyes.

"I'm working on it" He replied, the pressure apparent in his voice. "Wait, there's a call. It's Nate" He turned to look at the group.

"Put him on, Mr Beal" Hetty ordered. He complied.

"Hey Nate!"

"Eric, trace 394-8490." Nate's voice was low and strained

"What is going on Mr Getz?" Hetty asked, a quizzical tone underlying her faux calm voice.

"Cassie is talking to him" The silence fell deadpan on the group, yet again. The burden of this case was beginning to wear thin on the aged agents as they traded knowing looks. Eric began his search but was interrupted momentarily by the sound of the assistant director's voice.

"Access the phone call. I want to hear it." He ordered. Eric hesitated, fully aware of the legal implications of the request. The data protection act was against tapping phone calls in general, but remote accessing mobile phone calls was a stretch at best. He turned to look at Hetty, who nodded, giving him permission to follow through with the order. She would be responsible for the fall out. She always was.

" – and that is why you are a psychopath!"

They entered the conversation half way through Cassandras direct statement, all turning to listen into the comms system that was in the centre of the room. Callen noted that there was no fear in Cassandra's voice. She seemed to genuinely be relaxed in the engagement in conversation with the person she had just called a psychopath.

"That's what my friends say."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Granger stiffen up at the sound of the voice, confirming, for Callen, the identity of the speaker. Joshua Wyatt. The _Ubiytsa._ They could hear the man inhale deeply and exhale almost immediately, slowly. _Smoking?_

"Those things will kill you, you know?" Cassandra sounded less fierce and more exasperated in her statement.

"I think not." Joshua replied. "I've proven to you that bullets can't kill me – what makes you think a cigarette would do the trick?"

"I don't know. Maybe if I stick enough of them down your throat, you'll suffocate"

Callen felt the corners of his mouth turn up in amusement. His amusement was not mirrored throughout the room though. All others were stood tense in unreserved anticipation.

"Sassy." Joshua's laughter rang through the intercom. "Did you like the dress?" His tone was filled with obvious enjoyment.

"Nice shade of suicide." She replied, indifferent.

Callen assumed they were making reference to the dress the Mexican woman had been wearing. Why this was a point of discussion, he did not know. _Might be question number three_ he mused.

"Give me some credit! Took me weeks to orchestrate and you wouldn't come out and play" He replied, with a certain amount of incredulity.

"So you threw a bomb in my living room just so I would come and play?" The surprise in her voice was almost palpable "New low Jay, new low"

"Well, it was costing me a fortune keeping her around. Needed to cash in on my investment somehow" his voice as apathetic as she had been, taking another drag of his cigarette.

 _Investment?_ Callen didn't have time to analyse the words, as his question was asked immediately by the woman they were listening in to.

"She traded her life for money? Why?"

Callen turning momentarily towards where he could hear Nell in the background talking in a low tone. _Probably keeping Nate on the phone just in case the trace came through?_ Callen didn't maintain much attention to them though, as the conversation of interest continued.

"The typical, unfortunate family. Wanted papers into the U.S. and a million a week. Really, it was small change for the look on your face"

His laughter roared out, confirming, in Callen's opinion, Cassandras previous comment. He really was a psychopath.

"I can imagine. I'll make sure to screenshot a picture"

Callen could almost imagine her eyes rolling as she spoke.

"That sarcasm again." His response was dangerous, but Cassandra seemed not to care.

"What were you expecting? ' _Oh dear brother, I would like to thank you for helping me relive mother suicide. If only you could have been there, it was fantastic_ '."

Her sing song voice was almost theatrical, but her words were dark. _Question three answered I guess, h_ e thought, putting two and two together. The Mexican woman had been dressed in the same way their mother had. _Maybe?_

"Something along those lines. I just wanted you to remember how it was" He took the final drag of his cigarette, the light sound of glass following. He had stubbed out the cigarette and the sound of a chair moving suggested that he had stood up. "They were good times"

"You convinced two women, three decades apart, to commit the ultimate sin. Well done. I applaud you"

"Thank-you" the man responded, almost as if the previous comment had been sincere.

"Whatever." She dismissed.

Callen could hear the sound of accelerated footsteps echoing in the background. _The stairs?_

"What do you want?" she continued, the sound of footsteps no longer sounding.

"Revenge" His voice was low and full of malice.

"Could you be more specific?" hers, sounded bored.

"You are playing with fire, _Sandry_ "

Anger sparked his words. It was obvious to Callen that she got under her brothers skin; probably the reason that she was brought back to deal with him. Callen groaned inwardly, annoyed at trying to piece this all together into something that made some sort of sense. He needed definitive answers.

"Could you be more specific?" She repeated, just as bored, rustling resonating in the distance.

 _Packing?_

"Fathers killer" Joshua stated, defiantly. "Specific enough for you?" his own voice full of sarcasm

"That old tune?"

Callen took a step back from the centre table and walked over to Eric, whispering in his ear to inconspicuously get any and all information in regards to the death of Cassandras father to him as soon as possible. This seemed to be the root of their particular problem, and identifying the man Joshua wanted dead may bring some answers to light.

"Kill him" Joshua hissed, his patience seemingly lost.

"I'd prefer to kill mothers"

Callen heard Cassandra reply in much the same tone, the footsteps returning. _Down the stairs she goes._

"She technically killed herself, so her killer's already dead"

Silence fell on the conversation. Callen walked back to join their others, all waiting anxiously for the conversation to continue.

"Why?" Cassandra asked, resignation draped over the simple question.

"Because we finally have something in common. It's what I want. It's what you want"

There was a pause, most likely for dramatic effect due to how slow the following four words were spoken.

"And who _you_ are"

"Perhaps" She replied

"Then kill him" he barked, causing most of the agents to respond by physically jumping.

Callen exchanged glances with Sam who simply shook his head. Sam was not at all keen on this case, his reservations apparent on his face as he returned his gaze to the comms. The team leader took a moment to look at the other two members of his team, both stood arms crossed in a defensive stance.

"You killed my cat, Jay."

Cassandras voice sounded almost childish in comparison to that of the man with whom she was conversing.

"Technically I…"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Yet, the forcefulness in her voice now changed Callens opinion. She was definitely not a child and the stoic expressions on Hetty's and Granger's faces demonstrated that they were not unfamiliar with this type of exchange.

"It would be rude of me not to offer you something for your services my dear sister"

Joshua seemed unfazed by his sisters outburst.

"Watch the recording and all will be clear"

"Cryptic. Thanks." She spat, sarcastically

"You're welcome, _Detka_ "

And the line went dead.

The death of the conversation could probably mirror the death of many things in the Office for Special Projects. Death of the idea that they could no longer be surprised. Death of the hope that this situation couldn't get any more volatile. And for the older agents, death of the fantasy that bringing back the sleeper agent would make this operation go any smoother. No. Unpredictable turbulence awaited.

"Bastard. Asshole! Mother-" They turned towards Nell's workstation, where Nate's phone remained connected, hearing the profanities that Cassandra was spewing. "I assume you were all listening to that" They heard her call across the small speaker. Nell re-routed this call into the comms system so all could hear clearly.

"Indeed Miss Wyatt." Hetty responded in her usual calm tone. Callen had always tried to mimic her ability to remain almost unresponsive when the erratic turmoil within threatened to spill.

"Trace?" She asked, her voice clearer now. She had probably taken the phone from Nate. They could hear footsteps, most likely a result of her leaving her house.

"Working on it" Eric responded dutifully.

"Miss Wyatt, Please return to the OSP" Hetty asked, losing her nerve a little.

"Hetty, I want to grab him as soon as –"

"Agent Wyatt, get back here now!" Granger ordered, causing all four agents to glare at his tone.

"You're going to make my decision easier, aren't you Granger?" Cassandra asked in a threatening tone.

"Cassandra" Hetty spoke in her own warning tone, much like to a child. They could hear her sigh before she responded. "Walking to the car now, if the doctor doesn't trip over his feet again" Her voice lighter.

"Cassie will you –" The heard Nate in the background.

"Chop chop, old sport!" She laughed "See you all in a bit!"

For the second time, the team heard the line go dead, and another second occurrence of something was about to happen.

"Ok. I am confused" Deeks began, voicing out yet another communal thought process "Are we sure we can trust her? Because she be showing some serious crazy" He raised his hand towards his head and twisted his index finger around his temple.

"Deeks is right" Sam joined, his voice less light hearted "I am not feeling it" He shrugged with the honesty in his statement. Callen couldn't help but disagree with him. He was always reserved about people as a rule – but this woman… he just couldn't get his head around her. He understood full well that Hetty trusted her, the reason behind that would be wiggled out of their leader as soon as Callen was able to coax her into tea and spilling the truth; and although he had watched the woman repeatedly change fluidly from one face to another, there was a compelling need to trust her that he didn't quite comprehend. And the fact that she obviously hated Granger was almost good enough for him.

"Mr. Callen?" Hetty brought him out of his thoughts, as if wanted him to weigh in on the conversation. He found himself shrugging and looking to each of his agents, all waiting for him to make a contribution.

"I think we need more information. Full disclosure." The final sentence was directed towards Granger, with a smile on Callens face for good measure. Surprisingly, Granger nodded in agreement.

"Agent Hanna, read Callen into the information that you were given this morning. I'm going to make a few calls" He exited with nothing more to add, leaving Hetty alone with the eyes of the four agents and two techies gazing towards her for anything else that she would be partial to add.

"I think it's time for some tea"

* * *

"But why did she need to check my bag?" Cassandra asked for what seemed like the tenth time. Nate rolled his eyes at his partner. Cassandra had taken a disliking to the security officer that had checked her into the NCIS building. "And I'm not a visitor! That implies that I want to be here!" She added, sulking, once again, walking through the archway into the main section of the work place. He simply laughed at her unrealistic attitude. His laughter was stopped by the quizzical looks he was receiving from the agents at the desks.

"Hey guys!" he raised his hand towards the agents, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat. Futile, of course. Silence was what met his overenthusiastic greeting.

"Tough crowd" Cassandra muttered, throwing the bag that she had packed next to the filigree barrier, next to Sam's desk. She looked around to find a spare chair, walking over to the far side of the foyer and lifting it to bring it to the entrance into the Alpha teams work are. "Ok. Hit me" She sat down, aware that this was going to be interrogation 101. She had contemplated simply walking passed them. They were not her problem; but she had a feeling she'd have to be working with them at some point therefore building bridges was better than building walls - _although it would be fun to see them try and climb over them_ , she mused to herself. However, despite her attempt to lay some sort of foundation, it was apparent to Cassandra that they were not expecting this turn around in her attitude. Even Nate looked slightly taken-a-back by her clear attempts to be forthcoming.

"No questions?" She raised an eyebrow, looking towards Nate who was leant against the divider, who shrugged.

"Ok, Goldilocks" Deeks stood up from his chair and moved round his desk to lean upon it, looking straight at her. "What's the deal with your brother? Why is he so… so…" he moved his hands dramatically, as if trying to find the right word from the air. "crazy?"

"Deeks!" Kensi exclaimed, throwing what Cassandra assumed was some sort of stress ball at him, which he caught with ease.

"What? Valid question!" He retorted, throwing the ball back to his partner.

Cassandra smiled and nodded in agreement. "I'd like to say bad things happen to good people." She began, catching Callen's eye "But Joshua was just a bad apple from a rotten tree" She crossed her legs and leant back in the chair "My father began to raise Joshua as his protégée. I assume he wanted to train him to be a maniac much like he was" She shrugged "Never got a chance to ask. Father died when I was 8 and Joshua isn't very cooperative" She ended by leaning on her right hand with a lost look on her face.

"Who does he want you to kill? Who killed your father?" Sam asked, his fingers laced together on his lap. Cassandra couldn't decide whether he was arrogant or on the defensive. She opted for a bit of both. Most likely a military man, but the way he composed himself.

The sound of footsteps coming towards them and the way that she saw Deeks quickly stand up, as if burnt by a skewer in the rear, stopped Cassandras question and answer session. _101... to 1._

"Agent Wyatt?" Granger's voice caused Cassandras eyes to roll as she spun around on the chair to face him, Hetty just a step behind him. "We need to talk"

"Ok" She said opening her hands, inviting him to speak to the forum.

"In private" He said with a certain amount of reservation, but before Cassandra could respond, Callen had jumped to his feet.

"We agreed full disclosure, Granger" His tone was distinctly borderline angry. Cassandra pushed herself back a couple of feet on the wheeled office chair, now sat in the centre of the Alpha pack.

"I have to agree" She said, massive smile on her face, mostly to annoy the man before her. "Wouldn't want people in the dark, would we Owen?" She clasped her hands together in her lap. "I mean, it would be awful if, say, a member of this operation found out that the men to whom she placed her life in their hands threw her to the wolves – oh… wait…" she placed a finger on her lips in faux contemplation "That's already happened"

"Cassandra" Hetty sighed as she stepped towards the woman. "Please don't be so uncooperative"

Cassandra contemplated her answer before deciding not to fight"Fine" She pushed herself up and walked past the agents "I'll indulge, but I think, in the spirit of inter-agency cooperation, a member of your team should join us. Just to show we have nothing to hide" She could have sworn that Hetty smiled at her, but it was hidden by her turning towards her senior agent, beckoning him to join the trio in the latest 'private' conversation.

Callen stepped around the desk and followed Granger and Hetty, taking his place next to Cassandra where he silently thanked her for being the only one who actually bothered to include him in this chaos. And for that reason, he decided he'd trust her... for now.

* * *

"Where did they go?" Eric rushed down the stairs, ipad in hand and shock on his face.

"To have a secret conversation" Sam's tone was dismissive and sullen, but Eric did not delve into the reasons behind his demeanor. He had news.

"Well, I got the information Callen asked about Cassandras father's death. And you are not going to believe what I found" He could hardly contain himself.

"What is it?" Kensi asked, jumping up from her side of the desk, followed closely by Deeks and even Sam, all three glancing over his shoulder to see the answer to Sam's previously unanswered question.

"The man who killed her father… It was Granger"


	8. Chapter 8 - Testing the Limits

**A/N: Heyloo to all of you wonderful people! I'd firstly like to apologise for this delayed posting. I had a thesis to write, to move house and I've just started my PhD so… been a trying couple of months! But I am back and with loads of wonderful ideas :D**

 **As per usual, I would like to thank EleleCrawford, mich-shelly, MoriartMuse, jobosfan, tigerfan24 and 95 for the favs, Marcy Foote, EleleCrawford, MoriartyMuse and xoxo for the reviews and MoriartyMuse, kayleighcharlene1999, back2vintage, Arrianna21, 95, TheMorrign, mle-austin, carolinafirl123, CiaraRas and Tani Cullin for the follows. It makes me smile every time I get a notification! J and it pushed me to write write write!**

 **Keep safe, and enjoy the newest instalment!**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

The searing pain in her side was nothing compared to the throbbing that had blinded her vision due to the impact between her blonde head and the tarmac. She had probably broken at least three ribs in her stupidity. Had someone told her a few months before that she would be jumping out of a fifth story window on top of a parked truck to not only jump over a series of parked vehicles and jump in front of the only one that was moving, but she'd do it to save someone else's life… she'd have laughed, and probably shot them.

Cassandra was not known for her kind nature.

But there she was, writhing in pain as shots were fired around her, trying to stop the driver of the unmarked black van that had run her down and sent her flying across the shipyard tarmac and inelegantly into the foetal position that she found herself in now.

"CASSIE!" she heard her name being called, but made no attempt to respond. She had a feeling that talking would probably make it all worse. "Oh my god! Call a paramedic, NOW!" It was Callen's voice, she recognized in the background of her thoughts, through the mist of pain. His voice was closer, so close in fact that she felt herself recoil, causing her to bite her lip to stop the screams from escaping her mouth.

 _Why on earth did I do this?_

She didn't know. But one thing was for certain – she was going to find the man who orchestrated this, and she was going to kill him.

* * *

 _Four hours earlier_

* * *

The day was continuing to show signs of continued interference from the outside world. Cassandra silently thanked god that she had taken a moment to wash her face before returning back to the OSP. That said, she felt much like lady Macbeth, wanting to wipe the spots where the blood spatter had flecked over her hands and face – to such an extent, that when Granger offered her to take a seat in the small conference room, she literally sat on her hands.

"Where is Leon?" She asked impatiently. No other agent had managed to take a seat.

"He has gone to personally debrief SecNav about the situation" Granger replied, with no emotion.

"Couldn't he have just pressed a few buttons and used the big screen upstairs?" Cassandra asked. Although her words seemed childish, her tone was sincere. Despite her feelings towards the Director, it made everything a little easier and much more comfortable to have him around.

"SecNav requested a meeting face to face" Still, no emotion in his words.

"Leaving _you_ in charge?" Callen finally took a seat next to Cassandra, eyeing up the assistant director with distaste.

"Granger is perfectly capable of leading this investigation, Mister Callen" Hetty quickly responded.

"I think you'll find Agent Callen didn't make any inference to the contrary" Cassandra interjected, crossing her arms over her body, her eyes never once leaving the face of the man that sat opposite them.

"Quite right" Hetty's face displayed the same small smile that she had shown when Cassandra had volunteered Callens integration into the conversation. Despite knowing that the actions were solely to push the assistant director's buttons, it amused Hetty to no end, especially when she glanced at the young man whom Cassandra was defending, a perplexed look on his face.

Granger cleared his throat, drawing the conversation to its commencement. "Cassandra. SecNav has asked for confirmation that you are not…" he paused, his features showing that he was trying to find the right way to phrase his sentence. "That you are not –"

"That I'm not going to kill you?" Cassandra asked, leaving all tact outside the door. "Let's be frank… the thought _had_ crossed my mind –" she scrunched up her nose. "But that was even before Joshua asked _so_ nicely so- No. I am not going to kill you" She ended her statement with an indomitable stare "…yet" she added, causing Callen to smile.

"So I guess you're her father's killer then?" Callen asked, rhetorically, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. That would explain the blatant animosity that smouldered their interactions. He watched as Granger exhaled, acknowledging the fact. _That was easy_.

"I was on an operation –" He began, looking at his hands that he was rubbing together "-It was part of the mission. I didn't know you'd be there" Callen noted that this last statement was directed to the woman by his side.

"Look" Cassandra began, lowering her arms, leaning on her elbows. "I don't blame you for his death, Owen. Truthfully" She cupped her face in her hands and sighed. "It's part of the job. Right?" She paused, giving Callen time to look upon the faces of the three people with whom he shared this strange moment. Granger was staring at a blank spot in the centre of the table. Opposite Callen, Hetty was sat, her hands steepled below her chin, looking straight at him. Callen tried not to crumble under the stare, but he could not resist looking at Cassandra, who, for the first time all morning, looked calm and collected.

"How many widows and orphans have we left scattered throughout the world… it's just what we do" She stated, returning back to her previous position, placing her hands below her legs. "I do, however, put you on the list, high up the list, of those who share blame for Joshua"

It was at this moment that all three agents stared blankly at the woman. Callen found himself suffering from yet another wave of confusion before she continued.

"You came in, destroyed our lives and went away – allowing _them_ to pull the strings instead of taking responsibility for your actions" Her words were harsh, but true. NCIS had swooped in and left the KGB to pick up the pieces, putting Joshua in the centre of the ring of manipulation, allowing his anger to fester in the hands of America's enemies. And leaving her to… well… pick up the pieces of that mess.

"I was stood right in front of you." She reminded him "And you- you walked away" She paused. For dramatic effect _of course_ , relishing in the awkwardness. She took this moment to ponder why she did this, but it only put a smile on her face. There was little that she controlled in her life, so these moments made up for that. In part.

"So, naturally, I have always blamed you for the fact I'm not a prima ballerina – but not for his death" She sat back in the chair, stretching her arms out in front of her, before slumping in the chair. She was getting tired and it was beginning to show. Her eyelids were feeling heavy and her body was beginning to remind her that she had been thrown across her living room less than 8 hours before.

"Right" Hetty took control over the conversation, seeing that the assistant director was more than lost for words. She would have been in her right mind to remind Granger of the time he sat at her desk and berated her for the 'shambles' that she had caused with regards to Kelvin Griffin three years previously. Granger's mistake had cost America more than military intelligence, and her's had been rectified by her team. Maybe Callen would save Granger too? "Now that is cleared, let's get down to business"

Hetty walked over to the far side of the room, a filing cupboard in the corner. Cassandra smiled, wondering how much NCIS spent on these old school cabinets. With everything online, stored on ultra-secure servers, she couldn't understand why they still littered their rooms with obsolete furniture, but when Hetty placed what she had been keeping in the physical storage space on the table, it was clear that there was no online service that would have could hold it.

"Here" was all she said, placing the NCIS credentials in front of the young woman.

Cassandra hesitated, placing her hands, once more, under her legs. "I don't want them" Her tone was quiet. The last time she wore than badge, things hadn't gone to plan. Freelance was safer. It didn't hurt as much if you weren't part of a team.

"We cannot authorize your involvement in this case if you are not an agent, Wyatt" Granger spoke.

"I never saw you give Fornel an NCIS badge" She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that the reason was nothing more than an empty excuse. NCIS had worked with many national and international agencies with no issue. Informants we also used with no issue. This was a ridiculous ploy for control. "And when you say authorize, you mean restrict right?" She added, pulling her hands from underneath her legs and wiping her face, trying to push the tiredness out from under her skin.

"Why does it matter if she is an NCIS agent?" Callen chirped, shooting a quizzical look at Hetty.

"It doesn't." She shrugged, reminding Callen of how Cassandra had done just the same that morning. It was infuriating that people believed that was enough to answer a question.

"It's just a badge anyway" Cassandra said, fatigue lacing her words.

"We think it would be better if you were officially a member of the team, Miss Wyatt."

"Less paper work?"

Hetty smiled at the young woman's sarcastic tone. "Yes, but I think it would do us all some good if we were all on the same team"

"In other words, you want to see whether I am playing both sides." Cassandra replied, matter-of-factly. "You know that I can do that, even if I took the bloody badge"

Callen watched as both women stared at each other, their gaze suggesting an internal conversation that only they understood. Even Granger looked out of the loop, but Callen assumed that he was probably analysing the last statement Cassandra had spoken, which got Callen thinking: _Why would they think she was playing both sides?_

"Alright" After a long silence, Callen noted that she sounded utterly defeated as she reached out for the NCIS badge, her name and photo on the front of the familiar badge. He raised an eyebrow at the image. She looked so much younger in the photo than he had expected. He had been working at the OPS for almost a decade now and had not once even heard of Cassandra Wyatt. This situation was losing the little sense he thought he had gained. _Just adding up questions_.

"Good" Hetty looked from Cassandra to Callen. "Mister Callen, my office please" The look of surprise on his face sparked a smile on their fearless leaders face. She'd been smiling a lot today, Callen mused. He, personally, could see nothing much to be smiling about.

"You ok?" Callen asked Cassandra, pushing himself up, aware that when they left, she'd be alone with Granger.

"I'll be fine" she gave him a small smile. He felt himself hesitate slightly, an action that he couldn't quite explain. He knew that she was able to bare her teeth; that much he had witnessed, but he still didn't feel right leaving her right now. However, the answers that he was sure he was going to get from Hetty was too tempting to pass and he simply nodded to her, made his way to the door, and shot a look at Granger before following Hetty out of the conference room.

Cassandra felt a wave of dread occupy her previously calm demeanour as the door closed behind them. She was good as disguising it though, her eyes fixated on the assistant directors, locked in silence. She would not be the first to speak, her calm and collective stance ensured them both of that. She watched as his uncomfortable state became more and more visible, before he finally broke the silence.

"We have Korablyov in interrogation. Agents are questioning him now." He began "And we have the techs running over the footage. I'm sure we'll get a hit –"

"Where I lived in Barvikha, we had a beautiful house with a huge garden" She interrupted, smiling as she remembered her childhood home. "And just outside my bedroom window, there was this tree. Many nights I would simply step out of my bedroom window and into the tree and sit there for hours looking up at the stars, until either Anna or Nikolai, our carers, came up and shouted at me to get inside. Something about breaking my neck or something" She rolled her eyes and waved her hands as if dismissing them in person. _As if the tree were the one that would break my neck…_

"One night, I had argued with my father" Her dismissive demeanour changed drastically with this statement. "It was a ridiculous argument; too late to reminisce" She tried to shake it off, but it was still there; that bothering feeling. "I went upstairs into my room and straight out into the tree. Of course" She looked over at him, ensuring that he was still listening.

"I thought about how I missed my mother and how my father never understood me and I wished he were dead." She shifted in her chair and swallowed hard, feeling the fatigue affect her composure. She wasn't going to cry. "Joshua was away at boarding school, Katya was so young. I was all alone and wished just I didn't want the violence to continue." Cassandra cleared her throat and paused, this time trying to find the right words.

"So when I watched as my father walked out into the garden, bourbon whiskey bottle in one hand, and glass in the other, quite uncharacteristic really, I begged to god that he drop down dead. Next thing I know, my father drops, the glass breaks, the entire house was overrun with agents and you are looking up at me from the garden as you put your gun away" Her body language acted in such an oxymoronic manner. She shrugged but remained tense in her seat, her eyes lost in the ocean before them. "So Granger – Thank-you. I may not be a Prima Ballerina, but you stopped a violent man, and for all the right reasons."

She exhaled as if removing the biggest weight off her shoulders. Cassandra had always been too angry to tell him, but there were bigger fish to catch and she had decided to play nice… for now.

"This doesn't mean, however, that I am going to take orders from you. Badge or no badge" She added, with a small smile, pocketing her NCIS badge as she got up. She watched as he relaxed and returned her small smile. They were on the same team but it didn't mean that she was going to pay much more attention to his words.

 _Not even god could make that happen_

* * *

"I don't like it" Sam muttered, sat glaring at the back of Callens head from his desk in the bullpen. Callen was sat talking animatedly with Hetty with a file in hand which Sam was sure was filled with information about the woman that was the very topic of their conversation.

Eric's findings had left the three of them relatively speechless. They couldn't be accused of being fans of the assistant director, but even now, when the chips were falling against him, Sam found himself wanting to defend him against the unknown. Cassandra Wyatt put him on edge and he was sure that the reason why would be apparent sooner rather than later.

"I'm just surprised Callen isn't jumping out of his skin" Kensi mused, more to herself, following Sam's eyeline to their leader.

"That's 'cause he trying not to jump out of his pants" Deeks joked, a huge grin plastered on his face. He looked around at Sam and Kensi and noticed that they did not mimic his reaction to his comment. He shrugged it off. "What's the problem anyway? It's just another case with more questions than answers. I thought you'd be used to it by now"

Sam glanced out of the corner of his eye towards the detective and huffed in response before focusing once more at Hetty and Callen. It was true, this was the environment that they were always swamped in. Questions. Secrets. Strange orders. But Sam has always felt that Callen had his back, but he had watched his partner all day and saw that he was being drawn into the grasp of this woman and he wasn't liking it at all. He wouldn't voice his concerns to Deeks or Kensi, because they just wouldn't understand.

"I just don't like it" He finally responded, crossing his arms over his chest much like a petulant child would do.

Deeks and Kensi exchanged knowing looks and simply returned to their desks to continue with their paper work and ponder their own outlooks on the situation. Neither of them could state with confidence where they stood on the subject, but seeing Sam glaring a hole in the back of his partner's head lead them to believe that they should simply back off.

As Kensi sat, her eyes slipped over to watch Callen flick through the file he held in his hands. Even though Nate has clearly shown his support for Cassandra, Kensi couldn't help but feel herself falling on the side of the fence that Sam was clearly standing upon. There were very few times that working with externals on cases proved to be beneficial for them. Deeks, however, had unsurprisingly defended the blonde in a nonchalant manner, stating that he couldn't see what the fuss was about. Kensi was sure it was more to do with the blonde agent's baby blue eyes than anything else, but Kensi had decided to simply shrug it off. Whether they agreed or not with the presence of Cassandra Wyatt was a moot point. Callen and Hetty seemed adamant to keep her here, and, out of the corner of her eye, this statement was confirmed by them standing up to welcome the blonde agent as she left the conference room, all three glancing down the phone in her hand with mixed emotions on each of their faces. Hetty quickly returned to her desk, pulling out two documents, placing one in front of each of them. They glanced at each other momentarily before seemingly signing the document with a quick flick of the pen.

"Wonder what that's about" Kensi hadn't noticed the appearance of her partner by her side as she had sat watching them from across the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Deeks looking over to where both herself and Sam had been gazing.

"No idea" She replied, whispering as she saw Cassandra make her way away from Callen and Hetty and towards the group. "She's coming!"

Cassandra entered the group with a neutral expression on her face. "Where's Nate?" She asked, not looking at any of them, her eyes darting from side to site as if she were looking for something.

"Ops" Deeks replied, standing up straight, a smile plastered on his face. Cassandra looked towards him and raised an eyebrow which caused his smile to falter slightly. He noticed her eyes analyse him as he turned away, fearing what she might see behind his own.

"And my Bag?" She asked now looking between the three of them, her finger pointed towards where it was, by the filigree divider, emptiness in its wake.

Both Kensi and Deeks shook their heads in response, not having noticed that it had even gone missing. But when Cassandra's eyes landed on the marine, he simply shrugged, his arms still crossed over his chest, not breaking their gaze. His eyes sang a million songs, ones of war and outrage. She could tell that he was stood directly behind a barrier between herself and him, daring her to try and jump over it. Cassandra once more raised an eyebrow and turned to stand directly in front of him, taking on the challenge. She couldn't help it.

"Problem?" She asked, trying to mask the smile that was threatening to jump upon her face. It had been a while since she'd had a real face to face altercation with someone. Adrenaline rushed through her. She was ready.

"Yeah – you" Sam stood, towering over the young agent, but she stood her ground, taking a step towards him.

"Care to share with the group? Or does marine training really suck the emotion from you Americans?" She goaded, pushing a button that she was sure would strike an interesting response. She opened her arms, inviting him to speak out, much like the nurses in group therapy did.

"Come on guys – " Deeks began, stepping around Kensi's desk towards them

"No, let the man speak." She held up a hand towards the detective, her eyes never leaving her latest opponent "Get if off your chest!" She ordered the marine.

"I don't trust you" He hissed, his arms locking by his side. "You rock up here, guns blazing and you acting like we should just welcome you in?" There was a slight tone of sarcasm in his voice that ended up pushing Cassandras' own buttons. Evaluating the situation, she wondered how far she'd get if it went south. Not very far, she predicted, opting for the safest option. _For now._

"I never asked for that – to be honest, I was hoping I could just let you guys get on with it without me" She answered truthfully, shrugging. "So, be my guest"

"Cassie –" Her focus on Sam had made her lose her nerve, to such an extent that she didn't notice that there were more sets of eyes on her than before or the man that had joined her by her side, not until she heard him speak her name.

"Nah, Callen. Get your guys – go." Her eyes darted back to where she had sworn she'd left her bag. She looked closer to see the familiar ruby lined material poking out behind one of the plants that guarded the entrance to the bullpen. Nate must have moved it there, so it was out of the way, she thought. "But if you come back in a body bag…" She turned back to Sam. "You better hope your wife can handle those kids alone, because I am not coming to babysit"

"What d'yu say?"

"You heard" She spat, eyes still locked with the marine's.

"Guys! Stop it!" Kensi stepped forth, pulling on Sam's arm.

"Whatever" Cassie turned to look at Callen. "I'm in this, whether I want it or not." She slipped behind him and grabbed her bag, relieved that she had not lost it. The contents of the bag would change everything were it known. "Don't bother coming" she added " I can do it myself. You sort the kids out" And with no further word she left, leaving a myriad of agents gawking towards the exit.

"Ok Ok, nothing to see here!" Deeks jumped into the centre of the room, urging the distracted members of the Los Angeles NCIS department to get back to their stations before the next drama insured. They didn't have to wait long.

"What the hell was that about?" Callen still stood dumbstruck just a meter away from his partner. Sure, Sam was blunt and a true believer of speaking his mind, but he would have put his lfie on the line to swear that he was not hot headed. Yet, he's lost his cool. Big time.

"Blonde flutters her eyes and you all goo-goo! Is that how it is?" Sam's tone impressed Callen just as much as the subtle accusation that was thrown his way. When Callen didn't respond immediately, Sam was sure that he probably hadn't been clear with his point of view "She is bad news"

Callen turned away from his partner in frustration and began walking away from his team, seeking Hetty who had miraculously disappeared. _Typical!_ He didn't have the time or the energy to deal with this right now. His head was spinning with all of the information that he was trying to process and this was just another weight on his shoulders he was struggling to deal with.

"Maybe he's right Callen. Think about it?" Kensi stepped into the centre of the atrium where Callen now stood.

"About what?" He turned to look at her, then straight over her shoulder to Sam, who had also stepped forward "You thought the same about Deeks, and now look" He aimed at Sam, referencing the way that Sam had disliked and not trusted Deeks for years before finally accepting him.

"It's not the same G." He replied, sounding defeated

"Why? Because she stands up to you" Callen was beginning to crack. He knew that he was unaware of the reason that he was really getting into an argument with the man that he would die for, but that didn't detain him from standing on the opposite side of the issue. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about it, but he did. And that was final.

"Eric found out who she's been told to kill" Kensi interjected

"Yeah, Granger – and what?" He snapped, glaring at her, probably a little too much.

"You know?" Deeks asked, confused, finally gaining the courage to join the group, still aware that everyone was watching them.

"Yeah, she told me." He replied tartly "And if you guys even bothered to ask her a question she'd answer. Now get your gear and get to the Todd Pacific Shipyard" He snaked around them and into their working area.

"Why?" The asked, in unison.

He didn't reply, simply grabbing his stuff and walking out of the building.

* * *

It had taken no more than half an hour for her to drive down to San Pedro. Of course, she was dangerously over the speed limit for most of the time, but she cared very little. It wasn't like they could actually give her a speeding ticket anyway.

She was glad that she was alone in the car. It gave her time to herself, and a place where she could literally scream to her hearts content while only having to deal with the odd looks she was receiving by those drivers that witnessed her obvious breakdown. She would have gladly driven the car off the road and into the river at this moment in time. Cassandra was tired, cranky and wired up due to the little altercation that she had endured with Agent Hanna.

True, she admired his ability to keep things 'real'. It was just as hard for her to even contemplate trusting the NCIS team herself, especially since precedent was not on their side. After their 'conversation' her decision was only being made easier. No, she did not want to work with them. No, she did not want to form part of a team again. No, she did not care what they thought or did… but that ship sailed away from her when she decided to listen to Nate and instead of walking away, she jumped in the car and found herself sitting once more in the OSP centre.

 _Just like old times_

Parking up behind a freighter on the eastern side of the ship yard, she turned off the engine and waiting, planning her next move. The message she had received simply had an address and a time on it. Due to her mnemonic memory, no numbers were stored with names, which meant that she could show the message to Hetty and Callen without giving away her informant.

 _Oh Elijah…_

She shook the thoughts of her past away and stepped out of the car to get a better look on what was supposed to be going on here. Usually, the cryptic clue would indicate the time and place of a particular meeting, but under the current circumstances, she wasn't really sure what it could be about, or why Elijah would contact her now, after almost a year of radio silence.

 _Not just a coincidence I assume_

At the southern point of the shipyard, surrounded by trucks and vehicles, an abandoned office building caught her eye. It was in a perfect position to look down upon the clearing between the outlining buildings with an unobscured view, while still acting as a particularly good hiding spot if things were to go tits up.

 _Which is usually does_

Keeping her wits about her, she made her way as inconspicuously as possible to the building in question, turning around at regular intervals to ensure her six was clear. It was in the moment that she realised how much simpler these types of missions were with another person doing that job. "Shit" she hissed at herself as she recognised the familiar feeling of dependency sinking in. She scolded herself for silently wishing that someone was with her, but it didn't last too long as she made it to the metal door at the bottom of the building, which was, to her surprise, helpfully open. It wasn't until a little later that she'd realise that it was open for a reason.

Checking every floor, she made her way up to the fifth floor, which provided her with a perfect sightline. Silently commemorating herself for such a fantastic find, she kneeled, looking down at her watch as she grabbed the second gun Hetty had provided her in her bag of wonders from this morning. Of course, she'd had to give up the first to Callen earlier that day but she was just lucky that Hetty seemed to predict everything that she needed.

"She's a witch" Cassandra muttered to herself, as the time ticked to five minutes to the hour. "T – 5" she continued to mutter, clasping the 9mm in her hand in a comfortable position as she peered over the ledge her expression void of the fluttering anticipation that she felt in her stomach.

The next 300 seconds flew by in a flurry of shots, screams and darkness.

Callen's group drove up and parked just meters away from Cassandra's car, a fact that she was not aware of as she was watching a group of middle eastern men coming around the back of one of the freights on the eastern side of the clearing. If Cassandra was a gambling woman, which she was, she'd have put money on the fact that they were Iranian, dressed in dark, beautifully tailored suits, packing enough firepower to take out a small village. There were seven of them, all guarding each other's back as they made their way across the lot, stopping dead centre.

On the northern-side of the clearing, three men of eastern European decent came marching to meet the Iranians. Cassandra had not seen their vehicle pull up. She was losing her touch. She did, however, catch movement on the western side. Callen and Sam were taking the front, Deeks and Kensi keeping the rear, splitting off moments later to take the south-western side while the leading pair split down to take the north-western point, all in a position now to view the meeting, and clearly in her own peripheral vision. Cassandra couldn't help but roll her eyes as she rose to her feet to catch a better view of the men in the middle.

In what seemed like slow motion, Cassandra watched the three men each raise two automatic rifles as they reached the Iranians, catching them off guard, knocking four down before they even realised what was going on. "Shit" she spat, as she watched the remaining three rush towards the NCIS agents, the first shot quickly by Callen as he raised his weapon. This act caused the three pale faced assassins to halt their assault, wary of the unknown enemy hiding among the freights.

The screamed to retreat. _Czech._ Cassandra recognised the language immediately. Her eyes shifted quickly towards Kensi, who had just incapacitated one of the Iranians, in style. He wasn't dead, which was helpful. The third, however, was shot in the head by Deeks as he tried to jump Kensi. Cassandra smirked, but not for long, as she tried to locate the Czech agents. They were no-where to be seen.

Her heart dropped as she entered once more what seemed to be a dream like state as she watched Callen and Sam make their way slowly to meet Deeks over by where the four Iranian lay, lifeless, leaving Kensi to cuff the one that remained alive. It was in that moment that Cassandra caught a glimpse of the black unmarked car pelting straight towards where Kensi remained.

Cassandra didn't even have time to think about her actions before she jumped from the window onto the truck below, rolling to a standing position and rushing by any means possible to get to Kensi. She heard her name being called by the men who had yet to see the vehicle that was threatening their teammates life. Seconds later, she was sure they did, as they screamed for Kensi to move, causing her to stand quickly, turning to look at the black vehicle that was only meters from where she stood.

"KENSI!" Deeks screamed. Seemingly in shock, Kensi didn't move from her spot, but simply turned to the woman who was now jumping towards her, palms flat out, colliding forcefully with Kensi's chest just as the car reached her position. Kensi flew back, at the same time as Cassandra's as the car impacted with her side, physics playing against her.

"CASSIE!" she heard her name being called, but made no attempt to respond. She had a feeling that talking would probably make it all worse. "Oh my god! Call a paramedic, NOW!" It was Callen's voice, she recognized in the background of her thoughts, through the mist of pain. His voice was closer, so close in fact that she felt herself recoil, causing her to bite her lip to stop the screams from escaping her mouth.

"Cassie, Cassie!" Callen's voice began to fade into nothing and seconds later, all she could see was black.


	9. Chapter 9 - The Pre-truth

**AN: Merry Christmas To you ALL! :) I hope you are having a wonderful day! I couldn't help but get this finished and get it up! As always, a special thanks to Lovinglifesince1993, betty69742 and cp6 for the follows! Thanks, also to Triggerfinger213 and** **AceHuntzberger for both the follows and the favs and hrodenhaver for adding this story to your fav too! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAnd angel897 for your constant support and the review! And finally to Country Girl, whose review made me laugh and smile! Sounded like an advert! I loved it!**

 **And a massive thank-you to all of you who continue to read and support this story. Please follow, fav and review if you have a moment, it makes all the difference to me! :D**

* * *

Nate couldn't help but smile as he watched Cassandra argue with the nurse. She could be named the most stubborn person he knew. If he pleased, he could also give her the title of the strongest, or stupidest, depending on your point of view. His point of view was neither – Cassandra was just plain awkward, but it didn't make it any less amusing for the psychologist to watch.

She had woken almost immediately after she'd been brought to the hospital, kicking and screaming about how much she hated the service and how she had ought to have been taken straight home. Although the nurses tried to make her see sense: she _had_ just been hit by a car while walking along the promenade (because they couldn't tell the true story), and that she had broken ribs, a possible concussion, and a terribly bruised ankle, which they had attributed to the crash (and not the explosion earlier). When they had asked for her name, she hadn't been willing to provide one, which they attributed to possible post-traumatic amnesia and not to the fact that she had no idea which of her identities had been chosen for this little scene. Nate had chosen her name, Milly Snowden, and taken on the role of her Husband, Michael.

"Mr. Snowden, you must talk sense into your wife." The doctor began, drawing Nate's attention away from the amusing exchange between his _wife_ and the diagnostician which had just entered her room. "It would be unreasonable for me to allow her to be discharged in her condition" Nate looked at the young doctor with kind eyes. It couldn't be an easy job having to be subjected to such behaviour after taking the Hippocratic Oath, but what was a man to do? Even if Nate had been married to the woman, he wouldn't have a chance in hell to make her see reason, and as her partner, it was his own bounden duty to keep her safe, or in this case, keep her from hurting herself by hurting anyone else around her.

Nate knew that Cassie's reservations for being there were more than just her stubborn ways. This entire situation was growing by the moment. The entire day had gone from bad to worse and it had little sign of calming down. The nurse's prognosis hadn't been as bad as his own. When he had heard that she was being rushed to the nearest A&E, he had expected the worst, especially when Callen said she had blacked out. As he drove to the hospital, he was sure that his biggest fear was the phone ringing and being told that she hadn't made it. This was especially true when she had a tendency to do something as stupid as jumping in front of a car _._ Yes. It wasn't the first time she had done something like this. When he'd arrived, Deeks had greeted him at the entrance, told him that she was ok – but it wasn't until he saw her did he calm down. Cassandra had a way of bouncing back so quickly from these incidences, showing that now by trying to stand up and continue her angry spiel with the nurses by her bed side.

"I would like to apologise for my wife, but she is in her right to be discharged if she is not in any immediate danger" He spoke the words that he had done earlier that day to the officers outside her house, words that he had spoken often throughout their years of service together. He hadn't known anyone to break bones as easily as Cassandra Wyatt. His bounden oath was growing harder and harder to adhere to.

"She may not be in _immediate_ danger, but I am afraid that the x-rays show further unhealed fractures that make me believe that she will not be in good care if she leaves" His voice was stern, and although his words surprised Nate a little, his face did not show it. Unhealed fractures? How had Cassandra managed to get herself into trouble in the 9 months that she was acting as a psychologist. Even he knew that the job was not exciting enough to get into _that_ sort of trouble. He'd file that away to question her later, but for now, he simply continued to listen to the doctor. "It seems your wife is prone to breakages" Nate detected a hint of suspicion in the doctor's words. Was he being accused of beating his 'wife'? Although he tried not to show his surprise, this time it was extremely apparent on his face.

"What are you implying, Doctor?" He asked, his tone not as kind.

"Simply that it would be reckless to allow this woman to leave, especially under these circumstances and since I have yet to find her on our system, I do not feel comfortable with her not being in my care" Nate noted a sense of pride in the expression of the doctor before him. He deducted that he was a junior doctor, not only by his obviously young age, but because of his demeanour. He seemed adamant to 'go-by-the-book', a trait that often dwindles with age and experience. The junior aspect of this doctor did not make Nate any less annoyed at the barrier he was presenting, in fact, it annoyed him even more.

"That is because she would not be on your system. She is British and we are only here on vacation" Nate found himself delving into a realm he was not comfortable in. Making up elaborate stories on the spot was something that he was untrained in – and he was sure that the doctor wasn't buying this extra piece of information. "She simply looked the wrong way on the sidewalk, as in Britain the cars are on the other side of the road, and she was hit. We have filed a report with the police and, as you can see, my wife is coherent and will be in my care" He looked directly into the doctor's eyes, a trick he had learnt over the years. If you are going to lie, at least make it look like you believe it. Hiding your eyes made that harder to do.

"Fine. If I can have the details of your hotel so that I may contact them to ensure that they have adequate medical staff nearby, I would be happy to sign her out." He had a smug look on his face, as if he was about to receive a medal for his latest use of policy.

Nate stood silently, trying to dig himself out of this hole. He raised an eyebrow to buy some time, but his mind, although working at one hundred miles an hour, could not come up with anything to stay this doctor.

"Hey you!" Nate turned quickly to see Deeks stood, dressed as a doctor, his eyes beaming. Nate repressed the sigh of relief and chose to simply smile at the newest edition to this crazy equation "What's this?" He looked over the young doctor's shoulder and read the chart that was in his hands. "Your wife Milly was hit by a car? How _is_ she…" he inconspicuously looked over again "…Michael?"

"And who are you?" The young doctor asked, pulling the chart into his chest.

"I am Doctor Stark." Deeks introduced himself rapidly, turning away from the doctor just as quickly. Nate could see him looking around, aware that posing as a doctor was not something he'd like to have to explain to Hetty. But then again, Cassandra's behaviour would soon draw copious amounts of unwanted attention and the fact that she was who she was… it was probably safer to commit a few little illegal activities to get her out. _Before she hurts herself anymore…_

"I've never heard of you" The smug doctor said flippantly.

"Not surprising, I work in San Diego. I'm here simply to help to develop a seminar for the new students starting their practicals in the fall" Deeks played the part of a superior being quiet well – too well for Nate's liking. It made him slightly jealous to see how easily Deeks had rocked up and taken charge of the situation. "Michael here is my partner in our practice back home." He placed his hand on Nate's shoulder and glanced over towards the room where Cassandra remained, arguing with the diagnostician. "When I heard, I came straight over." He squeezed Nate's shoulder before taking his leave to work his magic on those in the small room.

"Doctor Stark and I are staying in the same hotel" Nate continued, feeling a little more comfortable now there was a slightly more developed back story he was playing to. "Two doctors, one patient. I'm sure we will be fine"

The young doctor looked frustrated and simply huffed before nodding and bustling off to the nurses station to fill out the necessary paper work. Nate sighed, and mentally kicked himself – Every day he was realising that he wasn't up to being a field agent and every day that made him more and more unhappy.

* * *

"I feel like I've been hit by a truck" Cassandra muttered as she staggered out of the hospital doors, aided only by Nate's hand placed on her lower back. She had refused the wheel chair, more out of principal, Nate thought, than necessity.

"It was a car – not a truck" Deeks retorted, a huge smile on his face. He winked at the young woman before skipping off to bring the car to the entrance. Cassandra stifled a laugh at his quick response, knowing that any form of amusement was going to cause her ribs to ripple pain through her body. She chose to simply snarl at the detective as he turned his back to them.

"Idiot" she muttered with a smile on her face, then looking up to her big friendly giant. His demeanour had been un-Nate-like since Deeks had magically convinced the doctors to allow her to leave. _She_ had tried all the tricks she knew in the book to make them see she was perfectly capable of going home, but the black and blue bruising that had already begun to appear on her side was the doctors excuse to tell her that she should stay put. However, the detective had swooped in, helped the diagnostician to wrap her up in bandages dowsed in absorbent antibiotics (something she was sure Deeks enjoyed a little more than he should have) and signed the paperwork to take charge of her for the remainder of her time in Los Angeles. And now, as they walked, slowly down the stone steps onto the pavement below, Nate had yet to say a word.

"What's wrong?" Cassandra asked, using his other hand to aid her to stand up straight. "And if you say nothing, I swear I'll beat you" She squinted her eyes at him defyingly, hoping he'd crack some form of smile. He didn't.

"I'm just tired" He replied, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Well that's bull." She scoffed "I've seen you still bounce after not sleeping for 72 hours – If you don't want to say, don't, just don't lie" She wasn't mad, although her tone may have seemed so. It was her way of saying 'I'm here if you need me', but without all the mushy cushy stuff that went with it. Nate knew this, and replied by moving his hand from the small of her back to her side and pulling her gently towards him.

Surprisingly, Nate Getz wasn't comfortable with expressing his feelings. He was the one that was there to help others, not the one that searched for help, and to be honest, he wasn't even sure what he felt right now. Disappointment was the only emotion he could tag right then and there. Disappointment at the fact that he wouldn't never be more than a man that listened to the tales of others, unable to really experience them himself – because, maybe, he just wasn't good enough for that.

Cassandra took a moment to look at the man beside her, his sullen look causing her a slight sense of concern. Nate Getz was the only person in the world, before that morning, that she would have jumped in front of a moving train for. She hadn't expected herself to do that for another, and the reasons behind that were still to be discovered, but the truth was, consciously, Nate was the only human being on the earth that she actually cared for. To see him in such a state, especially when she was unsure what was causing his apparent sadness, made her feel uncomfortable. Selfish, yes, but she hated to see him without a smile on his face. He was her rock – and if he wasn't there… she'd be lost.

"Either way, stop moping." She continued "If you aren't smiling, then it means the apocalypse is happening – and I did not just jump in front of a car to be consumed by fire!" She smiled up at him, trying to get something back. And she did. A small, flicker of amusement hit his eyes as he looked down at her.

"You shouldn't be jumping in front of cars, Cassie." He spoke sternly. "I swear you have a death wish"

"And there he is, folks! My berating partner is rearing his not-so-ugly head!" She nudged him gently and instantly regretted it. Her smile morphed into a wince.

"And _that_ is why you shouldn't jump in front of cars, you idiot" His words were kind, but true. She really was an idiot. Despite everything, he was almost in awe of her luck. Her defying nature caused his heart to stop on many occasion, yet she was always up for a laugh the moment that death stopped knocking on the door.

"Yeah, yeah – I've heard it all before" She closed her eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to dissipate the pressure that was building around her lungs. They say that to stifle infections around bones that cannot be casted, that you should use the muscles around them as if there was nothing to impede it – i.e. breath normally, walk normally and ignore the shooting pains. _Easily said than done._

"And I'm sure I'll be telling you again" Nate added, replacing his hand to the small of her back as he saw Deeks' car pull up in front of them.

"How is Kensi?" Cassandra asked, suddenly remembering the reason she was being helped to walk.

"Shocked. But good" Nate replied, smiling down at her. Cassandra returned the smile, just happy not seeing him sad. She was probably glad that Kensi was ok – but she hadn't had time to digest that thought before the sound of the car horn filled the air, catching her off guard.

"Come on goldilocks" Deeks called from the car, "And be careful Nate, I signed a paper that says her safety is in my hands until she leaves L.A." He laughed, jumping out of the car and opening the passenger door.

"You realise that Milly Snowden is under the protection of a 'Doctor Stark', not me under the protection of detective Deeks?" Cassandra tried to retaliate, but he simply continued to laugh.

"We are all one in the same. So, when it comes to your safety, it's my responsibility" He grabbed her other arm and helped Nate lower her down into the seat. Cassandra slowly leaned to get the seat belt before Deeks had a chance of doing so.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows

"Nope" he replied, that wicked grin still on his face.

"Then take me to the airport"

* * *

The camera footage from the shipyard had taken Eric no time to find and deploy onto the big screen in OPS. Callen had asked him to replay it over and over, so many times that he knew at exactly what timestamp every action had taken place. It took only 129 seconds from the moment the first shot was fired until Cassandras hands had collided with Kensi's chest, sending both women flying in different directions. He'd sent Deeks with Cassandra in the ambulance as he notified Hetty of the occurrence. Kensi was being looked after by Sam, whose military training was enough to look her over and see that she would simply be sporting some palm sized bruises in the morning. And he? Well, he'd jumped in the car and stormed right up here to this spot where he watched the footage over and over to see exactly what he had done wrong to put his team in danger.

How could he not have noticed the car coming towards Kensi?

 _You know why…_

He hadn't even been looking out for Kensi. He had let his judgement be clouded and he wasn't even sure why. He was so disappointed in himself – but more so because while he was out of focus, Cassandra had taken the lead and saved a member of his team, while putting herself in danger, even after the altercation she'd had with Sam.

 _You absolute fool!_

Maybe Sam was right, to a certain extent. He'd let this woman get to him. He needed to sort his shit out before he got someone killed. But as he watched Cassandra fall to the ground, he watched as he ran passed Kensi and straight to the blonde's side, he knew that he'd do the same again.

He rubbed his left hand over his face as he contemplated that last thought. He _would_ do it again. Cassandra Wyatt was a mystery to him that he was openly willing to explore into to find the answers. Just hours before, after their conversation with the assistant director, he had sat before Hetty and flicked through the _Primrose_ files and had only managed to catch a glimpse of the madness that was honing in on them. Joshua Wyatt was a Biomedical Scientist that was accused of the Experimentation on human subjects with the aim to sell and distribute bioweapons. He had already succeeded in Africa, but his presence in the United States was what had everyone on edge. _Naturally._ From what he had managed to read, he had orchestrated a new operation a few years back in Virginia, but it hadn't gone to plan. His first move had been to infect a young girl with a new, extremely infections strain of the ebola virus and send her into a crowded area – but the girl had died too quickly.

 _"_ _Katya Volkov"_ Hetty had confirmed " _The youngest sister"_

It had been at that moment that Cassandra had joined them. He had closed the file so fast he was sure she'd notice his arduous state. She didn't, however. She was more interested in the message she'd been sent. Moments after, Hetty had provided both he and Cassandra with a non-disclosure agreement to sign. The specifics of the information to which they would be allowed access after signing the NDA were not disclosed, but he knew that they would be having another 'private' conversation soon enough. After that, the NDA would stop them from discussing any of what was in those files to any one that wasn't themselves. It was like he was bound to her – and he found himself not wanting it any other way.

"Mr. Callen?" Hetty's voice came at no comfort as the footage began its cycle again. Eric had gotten bored of the repetitive request and had simply set the frames of interest on a loop and left his post with Nell. Callen hadn't noticed that they had left until that moment, when he turned to see Hetty beside him, joining him in the room he had once occupied alone.

"She could have died" Callen spoke, looking down at Hetty, then back up at the screen.

"That is the risk we take the moment we wake up in the morning, Mr. Callen" Hetty too looked up at the screen to watch the very moment Cassandra Wyatt jumped from the building. It was a beautiful sequence to watch. She fell like a feline onto the surface below, ran swift and jumped in a flawless series of movements. Even her final fall onto the tarmac was slightly elegant. "But I must ask, to whom are you referring?" Hetty watched as Callen's eyes grew wide on the screen as he rushed over to the feline agent.

"What?" Callen asked, confused.

"You said ' _she_ ' could have died" She spoke matter-of-factly "To whom are you referring?" Hetty looked at the agent beside her, awaiting his response.

"Does it matter?! Either of them could have died!" Callen replied, slightly annoyed at Hetty picking apart his words. He was not sure why she was even probing that angle. If he wasn't too occupied in his current task, he might have even called her out on it – but he didn't have time for further cryptic exchanges with the woman.

"I guess you are right." Hetty shrugged, noting his evasion "Neither died. Both are alive and well, yet you are still here, watching this event at five different camera angles. What do you expect to find?" Her eyes still watched over the agent, a blank look on her aged face. Callen was sometimes quite a fascinating specimen to watch. He saw things in a way that others didn't. Yet another reason that made him such a brilliant agent.

"The reason why" He spoke, pushing himself off the edge of the table he'd been leant upon "And I think I've found it" He spoke in a tone barely above a whisper. Hetty didn't have time to question the meaning of his words before she watched him practically run out of the room towards the staircase, jumping one step at a time while screaming "ERIC!"

Eric jumped up from the sofa that he was lounging on, spilling the coffee Nell had just handed him all over the light fabric. He was sure that it'd be docked from his pay, but the look on Callens face meant that the sofa was not a priority now. "Yes, Callen?"

"You said you'd looked through the footage from Korblyovs' place and found the moment the camera was turn on?" Callen jumped into the bull pen, where he found Eric and Nell now stood before him, the other members of his team still no-where to be seen.

"Yes" He replied immediately. He jolted such that Nell felt the need to take the half empty coffee cup from his hand, lest they wanted the entire contents to be flown around them.

"Can you get it on _this_ screen? And the footage from the shipyard?" Callen pointed to the flat screen that was on the pillar of the bull pen, looking at the two techies as if he had just asked them to perform a miracle.

"Bringing it up now" Eric replied, grabbing the tablet from off Deeks desk, where he had left it, tapping into the OPS feed and deploying it onto the screen before them.

"What is it G?" Callen turned to see Sam and Kensi join them. In the corner of his eye, he saw that Hetty had already made her way down the stairs and was watching intently from the opening in the filigree barrier.

"Look, there –" Callen pointed to the camera frame where Cassandra could be seen jumping out of the window.

"I see her jump –"

"No, Sam. Look above. Two floors up. Can you see?" Callen

"Eric, stop the loop and focus in on the seventh floor" Kensi stepped forward as the footage stilled. As she did so she was able to see what Callen was referring to. The body and face of a man, camera in one hand and gun in the other, looking down towards Cassandra as she jumped.

"Oh my"

All members of the team turned to look at Hetty as she spoke, half of her face covered by her hand.

"Who is it?" Callen asked, knowing full well that this was information Hetty had. He could deduce, from the surprised look on her face, that this was something she wasn't expecting, and that usually means something terrible.

"A rouge agent. A very dangerous one, at that." She spoke calmly, moving towards the screen. Eric had split the screen now, and placed a still of the moment the camera was first turned on. The face of the man they had seen in the shipyard footage became HD in the second video still, a smirk on his face.

"Elijah Mizrahi" All heads turned to see Cassandra stood, held up by Nate. Deeks came behind them and rushed towards Kensi, silently asking whether she was alright before pulling her into a tight embrace. Callen noticed that Cassandra watched this action with confusion. He assumed that she didn't think it was professional to display such affection, and he was right. Cassandra believed that it only showed weakness, which is why, at the first opportunity she could, she moved away from Nate and stood, dead still, before continuing to address the group. "A mossad traitor that works freelance for whoever pays the biggest fee" She stepped forward and pointed towards the second image "Behind him there, at the counter, are the Cohen brothers that work with him. Abarron and Ranit. They're stupid, but effective." She shrugged, noticing that it hurt just as much to move as it did not too.

"Why would he be there? filming you?" Sam asked, stepping towards her, his hands faced palm up as he is was ready to catch her if she fell. She eye'd him up and took one step back, maintaining their previous distance. She wasn't that eager to let bygones be bygones. He had spoken his mind, which she respected, but nothing had changed.

"Because he is the one that told me to go there" She admitted, looking towards Hetty "I guess I'm surrounded by more foes that friends. Who'd have thought?" She tried to smile and shrug again, but it was harder to do that time. She felt her eyes twitch as she winced, a facial expression that she knew wouldn't go unnoticed, especially by the agent who had yet to speak a word, who had not taken his eyes of her. "If I had to take a wild guess" She continued, avoiding the silent agents stare "I'd say Joshua wants to know who my new friends are"

"What for?"

"To take them away, Miss Blye" Hetty responded to Kensi's question, allowing Cassandra to take a moment to stare at the man's face who had got her into this. _Elijah… always a pleasure. Asshole._ The very moment that she believed she could trust someone, another took that trust away. She rolled her eyes as she threatened to fall into an abyss of self-pity. She decided to look away from the screen and back towards the group. It was then that she caught Callen's eye.

"What does that mean?" Kensi asked, stepping to the side of her partner.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hetty exclaimed "Out strength comes from our companions, Miss Blye, and if Miss Wyatt is separated, she is an easier target"

"No" Cassandra interjected, her eyes still fixated on Callens. It was the first time that day that she felt that she couldn't read the agents expression. Maybe because he was trying too hard to read hers. She'd make it easy for him, that time, and give them an explanation of her negative response. "This has nothing to do with me as a target." She spoke matter-of-factly, finally breaking her gaze and finding Nates. "It has simply made you all targets."

And there it was – the first sense of realisation that came over all of them. What had they just stepped into? Could they get out? What would happen to them? Would they all be alright?...

Cassandra was beginning to feel awkward in the silence. She had no words to add so she decided to take her leave. She walked slowly towards Nate, stopping momentarily to whisper 'sorry' before continuing on towards the courtyard on the right hand side of the atrium.

The light in the courtyard was a blinding contrast to darker inner building. The light breeze also contrasted drastically with the heavy atmosphere that the tension had built after her last comment. It was true. Cassandra was probably the safest woman in the world. More than one individual had made it very clear that they would do anything to keep her from harm. It was those around her that she had loved and lost because of her brother that had turned her into the defensive person she was today. She couldn't afford to put others in danger, yet despite her greatest intentions, here she was having dragged yet another team into the firing line. Gibbs had forgiven her, or so he said, blaming Joshua and not her – but it seemed where ever she stepped, fire followed. And it was getting boring.

"Cassie?" Cassandra jumped at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, causing her lost look to be replaced by one of a more painful nature. "I'm sorry" Callen spoke, flashing a small smile.

"You just scared me" Cassandra moved a step forward and tuned to lean against the stone wall, keeping her back straight, as she slid down to the bench below. As she did so, she noticed something in Callens hand, that she did not expect him to have "My bag?"

"Yeah." He lifted it up as if to show it to her "I drove your car back. Wouldn't think it right to leave it in the shipyard" He shrugged, taking a seat next to her, settling the backpack on the seat between them. "Nate says you made the nurses cry" He leant back against the stone wall and considered the centre of the courtyard, focusing mainly on the fountain in the centre to avoid deepening the conversation too quickly.

Cassandra smiled at his faux accusation "Cry? Nah, not really." She paused "Oh, Maybe a little" Callen found himself smiling. He couldn't think of anyone that was as changeable as she was – and he'd met his fair share of strange women. He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued "I've broken ribs before. The best thing to do is be careful, but carry on with life." Cassandra's eyes were closed as the sun rays broke through the palm trees.

"You were reckless" He stated

"You pulling rank?" She asked, her smile still on her relaxed face

"No. Just stating fact" He took this moment to look at her, without catching her icey blue eyes. Her long blonde hair fell around her face, her fringe was cut to the side and covered one of her eyes. She was quite beautiful, even with the light purple tinges below her eyes. Her rosy cheeks matched her rosy lips that opened to reply to his comment.

"I have Nate for that. I don't need anyone else telling me how wrong I do things"

"I didn't say it was wrong. Just reckless" He shifted on the stone bench and returned his focus to the fountain.

"Would you have preferred that Kensi take the car full on?" Cassie asked "She might have come off worse than I."

"You could have come off worse." He hadn't replied immediately, waiting to find out how to broach the subject. He needed to find a way to show her, on behalf of all of his team, that they were not going to leave her alone in this and, on his own behalf, that he would be there for what she needed. "It's going to be difficult working together seeing as you have a tendency to break bones" He chose a lighter approach. He seemed to get more honest answers from her when she didn't feel pushed.

"I haven't said I'd work with you" – an honest answer.

"You will." He smiled at her, and continued the light-hearted nature of the conversation. "You still owe me some answers"

"Indeed I do Mister Callen" She spoke, imitating Hetty and finding it extremely amusing. "And before I let you begin" She finally opened her eyes and looked over to the agent "Open my bag and grab the file from within"

He did just that.

"What is it?" He asked, burrowing his eyebrows.

"Well, seeing as you've signed that little piece of paper – you can finally understand what the point of all this is" She straightened herself up and turned slightly to look into his eyes. "That, Mister Callen, is Hetty's Plan B. And you are not going to like it"

 _Not One Bit…_


	10. Chapter 10 - And so it begins

**A/N: okokok - so I have had this almost done for ages - but I've just moved house (again) got a new job (again) and now... I hope to finally be stable! This chapter marks the half way point (more or less) and acts as the catalyst for the main part of the story to begin. The springboard into the chaos, I'd like to say! So please, enjoy :)**

 **As per usual, I would like to thank all of you that have been with me from the beginning, those that drop in from time to time and all those new readers! I appreciate all of your support! I would like to extend thanks to FireFlower88, Avidreader3, jobosfan and angel897 (as always!) for your reviews! also to RAD092515, FireFlower88, Avidreader31, Starwarslover4life, Mrs Sammy Gibbs (great name!), BTTWYA and shadowoffandoms3947 for you follows! And to all those who added this story to their favourites: FireFlower88, Avidreader31, jobosfan, Mrs Sammy Gibbs (once again, great name!), Role with life, BTTWYA, cherryshrimp005 and shadowoffandoms3947... you are all AWESOME!**

* * *

There was finally time to think…

There was finally time to smile…

There was finally time to heal…

There was finally time… to feel?

The removal of Hetty's plan B from the envelope was coupled with a sense of relief and apprehension. Relief: this was the first time that the red tape had been completely removed and there was someone with whom the weight of this endeavour could be shared; even if it was just verbally and not physically. Apprehension: Someone was going to know everything about her! She was going to have her secrets exposed to another; and her secrets had been kept that way for a reason. Cassandra had taken her leave quite quickly after leaving Callen with yet another file full of information, unwilling to undergo the interrogation that was sure to follow. She was exhausted and needed to organise a few things, if her stay in L.A. was going to be extended and her interactions with the NCIS team to become more permanent.

Nate, of course, had offered for her to stay at his place. An offer which she had kindly declined. He was as much a target as any, if not more so, and she felt that staying with him would put him in unnecessary danger – well, that's what she said to him anyway. In truth, she liked her own company and staying with Nate wouldn't allow her to relax or give her time to think. No. It was best for her to take up a 'less obviously', surveilled residence.

Hetty had provided her with a more acceptable plan; a set of keys to one of the NCIS safe houses that overlooked the marina a few miles away from the OSP centre. It was close enough for them to 'keep an eye out' and was also just far enough away that if anything were to go awry, there wouldn't be any obvious association with her location and the whereabouts of the NCIS centre. It was also just near some of the most vivacious bars in the Santa Monica area – something that ticked one of many boxes, in Cassandra's opinion.

And it was here that she did most of her thinking. It was the weirdest feeling. It had been a while since she had spent a night in a bed that was not her own, or 'Rachel's' at least. So, when she stepped out of the shower, removing the stress and accumulated dust and dirt from the day, she found herself stood in the one bedroom apartment at a loss. Nothing was familiar to her - She had only brought the clothes, the phone and the laptop that she'd stuffed in her ruby lined rucksack and the remaining contents from the supplies that Hetty had provided her: A gun, another phone and a photograph.

The first night she had stepped out of the shower and dried her hair off with a towel, she had sat herself on the bed and glanced over at the photograph that was placed on the bedside table and took a moment to contemplate everything in an attempt to set her mental affairs in order.

Just over a year ago, she had been sat across the conference table in Leon's office discussing the operation that they were about to put into play. They had placed agents throughout the city on surveillance, collecting information about the movement and intentions of the _Ubiytsa's_ 'terrorist cell'. She remembered fidgeting profusely, hating the fact that she was ordered to sit down or be asked to leave. Gibbs kept a close eye on her from the end of the table, that much she was aware of, but she refrained from meeting his eye as she listened to the Director's plan. 'Go in – get Joshua – get out'. Sounded simple enough, but Cassandra knew better.

And she was right.

It hadn't been the first time that she had been instructed to 'apprehend' her brother, and in light of recent events, it wouldn't be the last. The _very_ first time, she'd frozen on the spot, managed to allow her brothers men time to act and got every member of inter-agency team Gibbs was leading killed - or worse. Apparently the FBI intern Fornell had loaned still remained in a vegetative state; her family fighting the courts for more than a decade for the right put an end to their daughters suffering. _Not that she could feel any suffering…_

 _Primrose_ , the name ironically chosen by herself, became the most recent of operations to catch Joshua. She'd left the NCIS headquarters with determination in her heart and a vision in her head. She was going to get him.

…more people died.

The only good thing that came out of that situation was the five shots to the chest she finally managed to put in her brothers chest. The momentary euphoria and sadness had been just that - momentary. She thought she'd ended him forever…

But she was wrong.

She picked up the photo and dared to smile at the blue eyes of the man who had taught her almost all she knew about survival. Leroy Jethro Gibbs - in the fifteen years that she had known him, he was the only one that had never asked her for anything in return - not even answers to the questions she knew he wanted to ask. The photo depicted the first task force that she had joined fifteen years previously- none of which lived to tell the tale; except herself and Gibbs, of course.

She had said it before. And she will say it again. Everyone around her dies.

"And it's all your fault" she muttered, closing her eyes and falling onto the bed, allowing the eyes of _The Ubiytsa_ the haunt her thoughts.

* * *

The following days sifted into one long and stressful dance that culminated into an epic finale with a show stopping figurative punch to the gut.

Cassandra had been trying to avoid all human interactions since her most recent altercation with an automobile. Her work schedule had shifted to work nights, locking herself in the OPS centre and trawling through hours of kaleidoscope footage and the image of Korablyov's laptop to gain any new data on Joshua. To her disappointment, the two weeks worth of screen surfing had left her numb-minded and frustrated. There was no useful information on the laptop and there was certainly no sign of Joshua or his known associates since the her explosive reencounter with NCIS.

It wasn't surprising though. Joshua had previously managed to embed himself into the very frameworks that ran the British and American nations and remain there, unnoticed, for years. _Like a cancer,_ Cassandra mused as she finally clicked the small [x] in the corner of the kaleidoscope window and began her morning-nightly routine of cleaning up the server and removing all trace of her stolen user credentials. Nell would not be amused to find out that she had hacked her account - but the password ' _BealeMe123_ ' was not much of a challenge to guess.

Once that was completed, Cassandra would usually replace the equipment to where she had once found it and exit the building, leaving no trace of her having been there - However, this morning was different. As she turned off the computer and she raised herself carefully from her seat (Well, Nell's seat) trying not to move in any awkward positions lest she re-break her healing bones. Following that, she made her way downstairs to leave and instead of slipping out of the empty building unnoticed, she found herself in the foyer, facing a familiar individual, a coffee in each hand and a wicked grin on his face.

"I thought this was what you were doing" Callen said, holding out one of the take-away cups towards her.

"What I was doing - what?" Cassandra responded innocently, taking the cup of luke-warm coffee and eyeing the man up before her. They had literally not spoken a word to each other since that day in the courtyard. Sure, she knew that she was avoiding the imminent conversation that was due to follow the revelations that Hetty's ridiculous plan would have brought about for the agent; but she was in her right to do so. _Right_?

Plan A hadn't worked. Standing on the 'right side' of the law to try and catch Joshua had only been a waste of a decade and caused more blood shed than she was comfortable with. Plan B… well… stepping onto the other side? That was a little more than she was ready to assimilate.

 _Re-join Joshua? For the greater good?_

"Avoiding everyone" He spoke simply and shrugged as he took a sip of his own coffee. His eyes never left hers and it made her slightly uncomfortable. "Avoiding Me" She raised an eyebrow at him as he added this comment and followed his actions: shrugging, sipping, and then attempted to make her way towards the exit. "Wait, wait, wait…" As she passed his side, he stuck his arm out in front of her. She gently collided with his arm and found herself focusing all of her effort to not slap him.

Silence fell upon them, just enough for her to hear voices coming from the hallway that led to her intended exit path. She groaned as she realised that her lack of human interaction would soon come to an end.

"Callen I-"

"We _need_ to talk about this" He interrupted, not lowering his arm "I _need_ to know what is going through your head." He admitted, peering around and edging slightly to move in front of her "You _need_ to talk to me" His eyes implored her co-operation, and she knew that it was the least he deserved, but she wasn't sure _what_ she thought about this situation let alone have the ability to articulate it.

"I don't _need_ to do anything" she began, stressing the 'ee's', scrunching up her nose as she thought about her response. It was hard to give him an answer when all she felt like doing was running and hiding. "Don't push me" She said bluntly, opting for the more forceful answer. She caught his blue eyes and stared him down defiantly.

"I'm not pushing i just-" The genuine surprise that flickered over his facial features caused Cassandra to feel an emotion, she hadn't felt in years - guilt.

Callen had, quite gracefully, accepted his role in this little game; a role that _she_ had extended towards him. Why she had done that, she had been pondering since she gave him that file; but what's done is done. She had invited Callen to play the part of her confidant, the one person that she could actually talk to about everything, who could give her advice or who was just there.. because.. because! And there she was, shying away from the situation, like she always did - playing the broken, sullen victim that hid away in the darkness avoiding the light.

Maybe she should start holding up on her end of this strange little deal? If he is playing the role of confidant, maybe she should start utilising that? Maybe?

"I know, i know" She backtracked from her path to a more neutral one. "I'm not used to working in a team, Callen." She finally spoke "It's never brought any good on anyone so - please just, give me time to adjust." As much as it pained her to do so, she smiled weakly at him. "Too much is going on right now for me to be working on my interpersonal and social skills too" Her honesty apparently paid off, as her weak smile was returned with one a little less forced. Callen nodded and lowered his arm.

"Alright - but I have one condition to this 'adjustment period' thing you are on about" The serious tone flipped instantly to one that was much more playful, and the happiness dancing behind his eyes suggested that he was purposefully enforcing this.

Cassandra burrowed her eyebrows as curiosity flooded her face. "Yes?" She asked, cautiously.

"Well, I've been waiting for you to come down from your hovel for about an hour now" He began, walking over to 'bull pen' and grabbing his coat. _That explains the cold coffee._ "So, i think it's only fair you buy breakfast, right?" Cassandra laughed at his suggestion, but decided to participate in the act. It was the quickest way to rid herself of that guilty feeling that still lingered. _and maybe engage in human contact…_

"Alright then" she smiled at him

"Great! I am starving!"

* * *

"Do you think it wise the let this begin?" Granger spoke, sitting quietly at Hetty's desk, watching the two agents leave the foyer. Much like Callen, Granger had clocked Cassandra's nightly activities and often made an effort to shift his work pattern slightly to enter the building at an earlier time. Curiously, his presence had seemingly remained unnoticed to the young woman. He had put it down to her focusing on something more important than her personal safety; because never before had he witnessed anyone getting within 500 ft of the woman without her knowing about it.

Most mornings he sat in the wicker chair set before Hetty's desk, just observing Cassandra's exit then making his way up to Ops to grab any sign of what she had been doing. Still, despite everything, he didn't trust her.

"Let what begin?" Hetty replied, innocently, pouring two cups of Zhuang Cha tea.

The morning buzz began to fill the L.A. office at the two ageing agents sat opposite one another in the small alcove that was Hetty's office. There had been a time that she had been opposed to such an open plan style office setting, having much preferred to seek some sort of isolation in such a demanding job. Since her appointment here, however, she had grown to love the fact that she could watch those optimistic faces enter the establishment in the morning, hoping beyond all hope that those faces remained optimistic after a long hard day at the office. That was rarely the case - but she hadn't lost all hope. Not just yet.

It had been a long time since she had seen Callen with such a spring in his step, and watching him this morning, pacing around the 'bull pen' with those cups of coffee just waiting to catch Cassandra had made her smile inside. For she too had often sat unnoticed in the darkness, observing the young agent; but unlike her current company, she just wanted to make sure Cassandra was alright. She owed her that much. "Did you know-" she began, trying to change the subject. "- the name of this tea, 'Zhuang Cha', refers to the fact that the tea leaves, while still moist, were pressed into moulds or brick shapes that are then tightly wrapped so they dry that way." She continued, picking up the cup and raising it just below her button nose "Fascinating, isn't it?"

Granger turned to look at the small woman and raised an eyebrow. "Feelings confuse things, Hetty" Ignoring her feeble attempts to digress from the subject at hand "And in your team, there are already too many of those flying around." He glanced over his shoulder towards the foyer where the blonde detective, his partner, and the two technicians were currently entering, engaging in animated conversation "From experience, you and I both know that it won't end well"

He turned and delicately picked up the china cup taking a small sip. Though he didn't much care for the back story on the tea, he couldn't complain about its taste nor it's aroma. It was sweet, yet refreshing, unlike the conversation he was trying to have with the stubborn woman before him; her eyes lost in some void place, gazing into an invisible abyss.

"You're not even listening to a word i'm saying" He muttered, frustration lacing his words.

"Oh but I am" Hetty spoke "I am listening to you carp about something that is irrelevant" She snapped, albeit calmly. Finally, she made eye contact with the assistant director. "What would you have me do? Separate them? Sit them in opposite corners and forbid them to talk to each other?"

The assistant director gave her a warning look. "Don't be ridiculous -"

" _You're_ being ridiculous, Owen." She placed her cup onto its matching saucer, lest it break in her frustration. "They are adults. They are agents. We are in hard times. Let them grasp onto any bit of happiness they can!" She was shocked at her own reaction, but his shock was more apparent. "It's just breakfast"

"You know as well as I do, that it's more than that. Hard times brings people together"

"And why is that a problem? Would you prefer them to die alone?" Hetty's tone remained pleasantly tranquil regardless of the sullen turn in the conversation

"You're taking this to an extreme"

"This _is_ extreme!" A harsh tone replacing her previously calm one "She will not walk away from this, Owen"

They both knew it and the fact they both abstained from speech as their eyes remained locked together, confirmed it.

"Then why put Callen in that situation?" Granger broke the silence "Why not save him the heartache?"

"Because, assistant director -" Hetty paused, glancing over towards the 'bullpen' where the remaining members of her principal team remained, laughter emanating from their location "I'm unsure as to whether Mister Callen will make it either"

* * *

The morning on the marina side was just as beautiful as it had been two weeks previously, when the two agents first shared their morning meal together. It seemed like a lifetime away and although he had hardly seen the woman, sat quietly before him, eyes closed, soaking up the morning sun, he almost felt that they'd known each other for just as long. Whether it was the sheer amount of action that had been compacted into their short time together, the result of the extensive interrogation he had subjected their resident psychologist to, or the fact that he literally possessed a paper version of her life in the file she had given him, Callen felt like he knew this woman almost as much as he did himself; which actually didn't mean that much, seeing as he was still learning about himself everyday, but one thing was for sure, Cassandra had sparked something in him that was deafening.

The conversation had begun quite formal. She had asked for an update on Korablyov. The poor man was sat in a cell on the LAPD's precinct. Although there was no digital evidence to link him to Dzhoshua Volkov, there was plenty that blew open the cold case against the travel agency's true purpose; that, plus his provision of a fake identity to a federal officer meant that the Russian QDE was going to spend what little that was left of his life in an American prison.

Secondly, she asked about the Iranian that Kensi had managed to cuff that day at the shipyard. Callen had almost totally forgotten about that event - but the moment she mentioned it, he felt his stomach lurch from the memory. The car that had hit Cassandra had driven straight over the only surviving member of the Iranian group - that was until he didn't survive. Callen had almost been impressed by the brain matter spatter pattern that had been created around where the Iranians body lay. It had been the second brain that he'd seen exploded that day. He'd met his quota for… a long… long time.

When work related topics dwindled into nothing, all that remained was 'Plan B'. Cassandra had already asked that he didn't push the subject, so he chose another line of interrogation; one that had nothing to do with Primrose. Or so he thought.

"So, are you going to tell me how you got that?" Callen looked over to his morning companion, sure that he had picked a less 'pushy' subject as he looked from her eyes to her forearm. She looked quite confused, until she followed his gaze and quickly pulled her sleeve down, grabbing the hem with her fingers. However, he couldn't just un-see the large gash that trailed her forearm.

She was silent. Her eyes averting his. He watched her nose scrunch up like it always did when she was debating with herself whether to tell him the truth or come up with an elaborate lie

"Cat scratch?" She answered with a weak smile and a faux wince. Callen couldn't help but smile at her innocent attempt a humour in the situation; yet he shook his head at her.

"I get that you are accident prone. You _were_ in an ambulance twice the first day i met you…" He paused just a moment as he remembered the first day they had met and the crazy happenings of that day that had commenced the moment after they finished their first shared breakfast at the same establishment they sat now. "… but _that…"_ he indicated with a simple head movement to the gash on her arm "… is a knife wound. And even though i wouldn't be surprised that you moonlighted as a ninja…" he resisted a laugh as he continued "it's a defensive wound." He ended, matter-of-factly.

He thanked whatever it was that constituted the christian god that his partner was a navy seal, with more photos of war wounds and more passion for showing them off than is probably legal or sane. Sam had recently bombarded him with quiz questions on those very photos to check whether he was paying attention or not. Mostly, he got by on lucky guesses - but the knife wounds had stuck in his mind more than was probably considered normal. It most likely came from his own troubled encounter with a knife. Despite insisting to everyone that the scar came from a camel bite - the memory of that woman stabbing him still lingered every time he caught a glimpse of it in the shower.

Cassandra quickly stiffened and continued to avoid his gaze. He opened his mouth to continue his plea for information, when she spoke.

"Elijah" She spoke, releasing the hem and revealing the tip of the gash "I might have let my tongue run away with me and he wasn't impressed" Callen could have sworn that he saw a flicker of a smile on her otherwise stiffened facial features. "I wasn't paying much attention to him and was bloody lucky i reacted before the blade touched my neck" She raised her arm to cover the front of her neck to demonstrate the manoeuvre. The loose sleeve slid down her forearm to reveal the entirety of the wound. This man had tried to slit her throat and she was speaking about it as if she'd twisted her ankle.

"Whe-"

"A couple of days ago. And before you ask, no, I didn't report it. Not to NCIS anyway"

With that last comment, he watched her grab the hem with her right hand, her coffee cup with her left and her eyes continue to avoid his.

"What does that -" He answered his own question before he had a chance to ask it. She had contacted the _Ubiytsa_ and told him about his minions actions. Why would she do that?

"I have to try and show him that I am on his side somehow." She began, answering his mental dialogue "All Jay has ever wanted from me is my love. To feel that I need him as a big brother." She placed the coffee cup back on the table and finally graced him with the privilege of eye contact "It's the only way i can think of to show him that i want in on his 'crazy'"

Her features remained stoic as they sat once more in silence. It was not at all an uncomfortable silence; not in as much that Callen felt awkward. He did, however, feel the need to break it with one of the ever growing number of questions that was fluttering around his skull. He didn't, of course. He just remained there, looking into her eyes, hoping that he would be able to find something behind them.

"Marianne?" Callen's thoughts were broken by an unfamiliar voice calling out an unfamiliar name. It seemed, that he was not the only one whose thoughts had been interrupted, but the voice and name seemed familiar to the woman before him.

"Thomas?! Wow - I was just talking about you! what a coincidence" As if by the flick of a switch, Cassandra transformed before him into a bubbly girl, jumping up into the arms of the man that now stood next to their table, his toned, tanned arms wrapped around the blonde woman. Her British accent had transformed into an impeccable French twang. Parisian, if Callen were a betting man - but he didn't not have time to analyse this as the conversation continued.

"It must be! I have just come from my French class and here you are! The new teacher isn't half as good as you! I missed you!" Callen watched as the mans arms squeezed the young woman and found himself upon his feet before he could blink. He was painfully aware that Cassandra was still sporting broken ribs, and of course that was why he was forcefully placing his hand out for this 'Thomas' guy to shake. It had nothing to do with the fact that this 'Thomas' guy and his stupid floppy blond, surfer hair and hazel eyes and muscly body had interrupted their morning breakfast. No. It was all to do with the broken ribs. _Which he'll be sporting soon if he doesn't let go of her._

"Leopold" Callen spoke, a wicked grin on his face as he gripped Thomas's hand quite tightly as he shook it.

"Thomas is the one i was just saying that owned the club on Santa Monica Boulevard" Cassandra, or Marianne, interjected, stepping out of Thomas's tall, wardrobesque frame.

"Yea - " Thomas made sure to grip back, before pulling his hand back from the 'shake'. He shot Callen a quick look before addressing 'Marianne' "You should come along this weekend. We have an awesome set lined up "Bring your - urgh, friend… " Thomas eyed Callen up to the best of his ability, but he did not back down. "And anyone else you want. Your name is a permanent fixture on my VIP list" He winked at her.

"If i 'ave time, of course i will!" Marianne continued, fluttering her eyelashes and lifting her shoulders like a school girl does when they see their crush. Callen, or Leopold, looked between them both and fought off the urge to wave his hand between them to break their eye contact.

"Well i'd better be going - the most successful bar on the B.V.L.D. can't run itself" Thomas winked at her once more before taking his leave, sending a simple nod in Callen's direction.

"Leopold?" Cassandra bit her lip to stifle the laughter the moment Thomas was out of earshot.

"Yeah - Problem?" He asked, a cheeky grin plastered wide across his face.

"Leopold!? That is the most random thing you could have come up with!" She nudged into him as they walked down the steps from the cafe to the sidewalk to begin their walk along the marina, in the direction of the Office of Special Projects, and incidentally, on the way back to where Cassandra was staying. "You need to work on your Alias creation if we're going to work together on this" He felt her fist gently collide with his arm as she laughed.

"If you become more communicative?" He replied slowly, a look of faux caution and worry on his face.

"Everything with you is 'deals'. Can't you just do things just because" Her fist collided a little harder with his arm this time, but the smiles didn't falter from either of their faces

"If you do" He replied, quickly

"See!" She tried to hit him once more, but he was too quick for her. This time, he grabbed her wrist and spun her into him, both of them spilling over with laughter. Callen didn't immediately let her go, the proximity causing his brain to switch off momentarily. It wasn't until she coughed to get his attention did he release her wrist and allow her to take a step back.

"How do you do it?" He asked her

"Do what?" She replied, slightly confused that smile still beaming from her face. If she felt awkward, she certainly wasn't showing it

"Slip in and out with such ease" He was referring to her ability to switch personalities. This had been the second time that he had witnessed such a quick switch. The first: Cassandra-Sandry-Cassandra and now Cassandra-Marianne-Cassie. Yes. Cassie. That was the name he associated with the more happy-go-lucky version of the agent.

"Practice" She shrugged and inclined her head a little as if trying to read him. He didn't look away but he did continue to walk, gesturing with his head that she should follow. Although he knew that Hetty wasn't much of a slave driver per se, he was still on the clock, and although he knew he could spend the entire day picking Cassies' brain, it was about time that they got back to work.

"its quite impressive" He stated

"Merci" She replied "And although i would love to hear you compliment me all day. I'd better be getting home - all work and no sleep makes me ever more useless"

He hadn't remembered in the fact that she had been up all night. "Shall i… walk you home?" He asked, not quite ready to let her go.

"I'll be fine. I'm literally going to have a shower and probably meet you at the OSP. It's not like i do much sleeping these days anyway"

"I'll make sure there's coffee" He promised, the smile yet to vacate his face.

"You do that. Fresh - no lukewarm rubbish" For the last time, she punched him playfully on the arm before departing "See you soon, Leopold" He watched her cross the road and disappear into the crowd, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Callen decided to walk the longest way back to the office, remaining on the beach side walkways to clear his head. It was uncanny how quickly he had grown comfortable with a woman that had refused to give him anything. She was basically the definition of 'untrustworthy', if you took the information in her file as anything to go by. Cassandra Wyatt was one woman with a myriad of alias's that had seemingly played governments against each other for years. But it didn't seem to matter to him. He trusted her.

Sam had noticed his unsettled behaviour over the past fortnight and had complained profusely about it. Even _he_ was getting annoyed at how the lack of communication with Cassandra was effecting him. Partly, he knew, it was because he had just been given what seemed like the fruit of eden and wasn't allowed to show anyone but her and that was slightly unfair; but more so it was because he felt he needed to see her face - even if it was just for a moment - and he would have been ok.

"Jesus" He muttered to himself under his breath. Maybe Sam was right - he was either desperate for a woman's attention and was focusing everything on the newest member of their circle - or maybe it was simply because they just clicked. It was easy to talk to her - if you forget about all the evasive behaviours and lack of communication and all those other transgressions that he had obviously not factored in.

His thoughts had kept him busy up until the moment he had to turn the corner and walk down the last stretch of road to get to the centre. It was here when his phone rang.

"Callen" He answered, not recognising the number

"Get Granger" The woman voice was stern and sharp but he recognised it instantly

"Cassie?"

"Joshua has been here" She spoke in a monotone. Gone was the playful tone of voice he had just been engaging with.

"How do you know?" He replied, slipping into his own agent persona

"Because he's left me a present" Her voice had calmed slightly as she spoke. Callen couldn't put his finger on it, but it sounded like she was… embarrassed?

"What?" He enquired, now walking inside of the building, swiping his card to enter the secure door at the side of the building. He walked in silence, through the corridors and to where he knew Granger would be; sat at Hetty's desk, reading a file that had 'TOP SECRET' stamped in red on the front. "Cassie, What do you mean?"

This question seemed to spark Grangers interest more than the file, as he put the file down and simply held his hand out to take the call.

"Wyatt? - Yes, What? We'll be there right away. Stay out of the house. Ok." He hand up the phone and handed it to the senior agent "Get your team ready. Now."

Callen didn't question the assistant director, nor did he say a word as he grabbed his gear, gestured for his team to follow and jumped in the car with Granger to make their way to the safe house where Cassie was staying. He couldn't help but replay the words he had heard Cassandra stay over the phone to Granger:

"He's sent me Elijahs head in a box"


	11. Chapter 11 - Tears and Tribulations

**A/N: well - i have had to split this chapter into two and modify it a bit- because i had written about 20,000 words haha! I'm getting so excited about this story, it's pretty much taking over my life! :D**

 **It wouldn't be an authors note if i didn't take the time to thank those who have taken the time to read this story and take this journey with me :D I would like to especially thank JET1967 for following this story; Raminta948 and animexchick for following the story and adding it to your favourites! And of course... angel897 who always takes the time to leave me a review :)**

 **I would really appreciate it if people could review the chapters, if you have a moment :D**

 **Question to the readers: MoriartyMuse sent me a message suggesting A** **lena Shishkova would be her PB choice for Cassandra - what do you think? Any other suggestions? Let me know :D**

 **Thank-you all for your constant support!**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

The marina wind blew delicately through her long blond hair as she sat quietly on the grass outside of yet another of her temporary homes. Her blue eyes were obfuscated by the fact that she held her hands over them, the balls of her palms pressed tightly against the balls of her eyes. She thought that this might stop the tears of frustration and fatigue from spilling out from her beautiful blue eyes, but it didn't matter how hard she pushed her palms, the tears still came streaming out.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Her elbows were balanced perfectly on her knees and maintained their balance as she moved her knees closer to her body. She thought that this might stop the unsettling feelings of emptiness and distress from rippling out through her small frame, but it didn't matter how hard she dug her elbows into her knees, or how tightly she pulled her legs into her body, the emptiness consumed her.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

 _Or was it?_

Was this not what she had wanted? Or at least expected?

She straightened herself up, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs, allowing the tears to simply fall down her cheeks, scolding herself mentally for believing it could have been any different.

"I am _so_ going to get you" She muttered under her breath as she glanced out of her peripheral vision to the four boxes that were on her porch. She would have loved to blame her watering eyes on the stench of rotten flesh that came from the heads that were boxed beside her; but Joshua had taken great care to immerse them in formaldehyde, which she _could_ smell, and it made her feel sick. She would have loved to blame the feeling of emptiness on the fact that the head of the man she once loved was in the box beside her, but the love she felt for him had died long before his untimely death, since he had used her for his own selfish means and almost got her killed.

 _Again._

That hate had been demonstrated just 48 hours previous, when she had caught him following her home. Truth be told, she hadn't made much effort in her attempts to make her journey back to the safe house inconspicuous. And truth be told, she hadn't made much effort to do anything sensible since she had found out that Joshua wasn't dead. So when she turned to confront Elijah, she hadn't even noticed the blade in his hand nor did she find out why he was there - She just flipped at him.

She finally got to tell him how much she hated him and how much she wanted him dead for making her lower her barriers, for making her think he loved her, for using her and finally, for selling her out.

 _Again._

He had begun to try and defend himself, but she hadn't let him finish his first sentence before she began screaming at him again.

She told him how over anything else in this world, she would find a way to, and quote:

 _'to stop him from wasting precious oxygen that could be put to better use'_

She had turned away from him only to find the previously unnoticed blade come around her in a slashing movement that she had only been lucky to catch with her arm. Turning and stuffing the blade in his shoulder was the best she could do before running away. She couldn't even bring herself to kill him. So why was she so utterly distraught to see that her brother, to whom she requested aid, had so swiftly granted her morbid wish?

Cassandra glanced over to the other three, unopened boxes. She was pretty sure what she would find inside them, thus chose to allow forensics to deal with those surprises. There were only a handful of people that had actually physically hurt Cassandra in the past few weeks, and she would bet her life that those three Czech assassins wouldn't be running anyone else down anymore.

Another wave of tears threatened to take over her. With that trembling feeling, she threw her hands up to her face once more and pushed her hands so hard into her eyes that it was beginning to give her a headache. The fact that she was replaying the moment she grabbed the note on the box which read ' _No-one hurts my little sister_ ' and knew exactly what she would find within the package on her doorstep. For this wasn't the first time she had received a gift like this.

She must have been five or six the first time she had read this type of note and found such a 'thoughtful' gift. She had been playing with the neighbours kitten when it had lashed out at her and scratched her on the face. Innocently, she had run inside to find her big brother, crying much like she was now, begging him to make it better. Of course, she wanted him to be a doctor - not a killer, so when, the following day, she opened her bedroom door to see a small box and the very same note saying ' _No-one hurts my little sister_ ', she had been utterly distraught at the sight of the cats head. She didn't sleet for weeks after that - a symptom of every encounter with the results of Joshua's actions that plagued Cassandra since she could remember.

 _But they all deserve to die_

"Shut up!" She hissed at her internal monologue. Sandry was threatening to bubble to the surface and this was not the time nor the place for _that_ can of worms to be opened. She removed her hands from her eyes, but kept them closed, breathing deeply to try and keep Sandry out of her head.

Nate had given Cassandra an interesting analogy of what happened to her at times like this. He said it was something akin to moving house. In this analogy, her 'body' was the 'house'. He would say that some of the 'people' she created, like Marianne, don't bring any furniture with them when they stay, so she can just kick them out with no "baggage"- Others, live there permanently, so she can slip in and out easily, but the longer they resided there, the more furniture they bring and the harder it is to get rid of them.

She used to laugh at the analogy the first time he had tried to psycho-analyse her. It seemed ridiculous to believe that her state of mind could be articulated in such a manner.

But it was true.

Sandry, for example, could be considered a permanent resident in her 'house' and every time she started 'moving her out', Sandry would play up and it made things really difficult. Nate would say 'She has a lot of 'furniture', so it's hard to shake her' - and any way, every time she even began to push her away, she needed her, so she was forced to walk aimlessly through life, keeping all her baggage around.

And she had a lot of baggage.

Cassandra had learnt to cope with such a strong persona by creating 'throw away people' to deal with everyday life. Marianne, for example, was created simply so she could have a social life while being Rachel - who was so boring and wouldn't have gone out. She had also learnt to create mini versions of her main residents for certain purposes. Cassandra Wyatt, for example, was an agent - but she had grown into such a predominant character in her life that offshoots of her were created. Different faces for different situations.

For example, there was a version of her that Nate knew - Another that she used to engage with the likes of Granger and, most recently, another that had grown to be the one that she became when she was with Callen.

 _Because you can't be yourself - can you!_

She opened her eyes at her last thought, her heart beating fast as if she had heard those words shouted to her at close proximity. In reality, Cassandra's biggest fear was that Sandry wasn't an alias - but who she really was - and although there was once that she knew that to be true - she wasn't sure anymore.

 _You are pathetic!_

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut Up!" She continued to hiss burying her face in her hands once more.

She was officially losing it. It was becoming too much for her. This fight of fifteen years was taking its toil and she although she knew it would be the end of her, she never expected it to be like this.

 _Cassie?_

"No!"

"CASSIE!"

The feeling of someone shaking her gently brought her out of her paranoid state. The fear that she had just been feeling faded into nothing as she opened her eyes to see Nate knelt before her, hands on her shoulders and a worried look on his face

"Cassie?"

"Barely" She croaked ironically, wiping her tears away.

"Stay strong. You'll get through this" He spoke calmly, knowing full well what demons she was fighting. He wouldn't have been doing his job properly if after five years of working with her, he didn't realise that she was borderline psycho - well, that's how she referred to herself, anyway.

"I don't know if I want to anymore" She admitted, extending her hands out to him, for him to help her up. He complied swiftly and looked down upon the woman he had grown very fond of.

"Now, if you'd have taken up my offer and stayed with me…" He released her hands and looked her over. She must have seemed a complete mess to him, but a small smile did appear on her face at his attempt at humour.

"Your head would be in a box" She replied bluntly.

"You might be right - but at this moment in time, I think it's your head we have to be worrying about" Dr. N. Getz. Pain in the arse psychologist and, despite his degrees and many years of experience, he had a terrible sense of timing.

"You're going to do this here?" She questioned, actually surprised. "Well you can stuff that idea where the sun don't shine" She rolled her eyes at him, finally catching sight of the other agents that just exiting their vehicles. She sighed, and pulled down her shirt that wiped away the invisible creases, readying herself for another round.

"Do I look ok?" She asked

"You look like crap" He replied awaiting the slap that was due to come. And it did. Backslap to the stomach. He winced and lightly laughed before turning to stand next to her, facing the agents that were coming their way.

"Ready?" Nate asked

"Meh, this is just what i do Nate - pick up the pieces and move on" She looked up at her big friendly giant, silently thanking him for snapping her out of her stupor state. Now she had to be Cassandra the agent - but she knew Sandry was one step behind her - ready to burst out at any moment.

The five agents made their way synchronically across the recently cut grass, the five sets of eyes shooting from their boxes, to the pair that awaited their arrival. Granger led the unorthodox pack eyeing the pair with more than just curiosity.

"Dr. Getz" He spoke curtly.

"Assistant Director" His faux calm demeanour resonated throughout them all. A beautiful contrast to the awkward tension that was building up within the group. Cassandra felt herself draw closer to him, feeding off his tranquility. So what is he wasn't able to slip in and out of different skins at the drop of a hat or shoot up a Mexican cartel without taking one bullet? His talents were far more useful. Face adversity with a smile and help others do the same. Yes. Nate was the reason that she could still fight.

"You are here because…?" The assistant directors voice was left on a questioning note, awaiting some sort of explanation.

"Oh, me? Well, i was just, in the neighbourhood -" And there it faltered. It was a wonderful thing that Nate Getz found it very difficult to lie. It meant that he usually just resided himself to telling the truth - a very unique characteristic. But Cassandra couldn't let him flounder around in Grangers presence.

"Relax Nate. Ignore him" Cassandra stated, bluntly. "Four boxes." She directed their attention to the front porch with a simple hand movement "I opened the first and inside it was the head of the rogue Mossad agent Elijah Mizrahi. I didn't open the other three, but I am pretty certain that there are three Czech agents missing their heads"

"The ones from the shipyard?" Sam asked, burrowing his eyebrows with incredulity

"Most likely"

"And is it by divine intervention that you have come to this conclusion?" Cassandra caught the Assistant Directors eye in her peripheral vision and made sure to take a deep breath before addressing his ridiculous comment.

"No." She didn't turn to actually look at him "I concluded this by means of reading the note"

"What note?"

"This one" She replied, matter-of-factly, extending towards him the note that had been placed upon Elijahs box.

He grabbed it and attempted to read the note. It was then that she turned her head to catch his eye, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Agent Callen" Granger didn't leave her gaze as he handed the note, written in Russian towards the only other agent in the vicinity with the capability of reading it. She knew that he was too proud to ask her - and he wouldn't have believed her anyway.

"It says ' _No-one hurts my little sister_ " Callen informed the aged man, trying to grasp at the reason behind this new wave of crazy. Cassandra could see that the other five sets of eyes were watching her and Grangers silent exchange as the note was read out-loud. Granger knew what this meant. History was soon to repeat itself.

"And you are sure it's from the _Ubiytsa_?" He attempted to hide the fear in his voice - but it was there.

"It's his M.O." She replied, finally breaking their eye contact and stepping past the boxes.

"Not so fast" Granger extended his hand out to grab her arm. She could swear that she heard Nate inhale and stop breathing, awaiting the expected response from the young agent. It didn't come. Cassandra remained dead still. "Agent Hanna, Agent Callen - take the house" He ordered "Agent Blye, you and Deeks take the perimeter. Take the Doctor for a walk too" He shot a look at Nate, who finally began to breathe again. They all complied with their respective orders, leaving Cassandra and Granger alone in the front yard.

"Why do i get the feeling that you know more about this than you are telling" He spoke harshly, pulling her towards him.

"Because it's true" She bit back, twisting her arm out of his grasp.

"Care to elaborate?"

Cassandra stared at him once more, questioning her position more and more every time she was subjected to his interrogations. It would be so easy for her to just kill him and run - but she didn't want to test the aim of the agents that still remained close. She also had bigger fish to fry.

It was her time to grab his arm and pull him slightly away from the house. "Elijah attacked me just over 48 hours ago - " She began, looking towards to house to make sure there were no signs of others interests being peaked. "So I informed Joshua what Elijah had done" She avoided his disapproving expression "I didn't tell him about the shipyard, but i'm sure forensics will confirm that" She added, still avoiding her gaze.

It took a couple of moments for Granger to find his voice, digesting the latest snippet of information. "What is your game?" He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words.

"Hetty's plan is for me to infiltrate the fold again -"

"How is getting your ex-lover killed going to help that, Cassandra?" He interrupted, glancing over his shoulder to see the agents working within the house. "Are you planning on using that brain in your head at all?!"

Cassandra was taken-a-back by his tone, and this in turn surprised her. She was actually speechless and for the first time she could remember, she didn't have a snarky comment to fill the silence. "I-i-"

"That's what i thought" He responded, standing tall before her. "Now, you are going to listen to me -" He began "If you want to survive this - you are going to have to stop playing the rogue agent. You got it?"

"But-"

"I haven't finished" His tone was blunt and he fell silent, his eyes glazing over as he thought about his next phrase. The expression on his face was well known to Cassandra - it only appeared when he was about to reveal something that was going to change the course of an investigation.

"What is it?" She asked, taking a small step back, almost fearing the revelation.

"It is to our understanding that Mizrahi was the one that killed Katya Volkov"

And there it was - no sugar coating - no build up - just a mic drop moment.

"W-what?" She asked in disbelief "To _who's_ understanding?"

"After the Virginia incident, an investigation was set underway -"

"Another investigation i was not privy to?" She asked, the anger quickly replacing the disbelief.

"You were too close." He stated "SecNav only approved the investigation if you were no where near it. It was protocol"

"Screw protocol!" And she'd lost control again. "You and your bloody protocols and - god! I _hate_ NCIS!" her hands flew up and grasped her hair. It was the only thing that was stopping her grabbing the gun that was settled on Grangers hip and ending it all. "What evidence was there to suggest it was Elijah?" She asked, closing her eyes, trying with all of her being to remain calm.

"Forensics found the syringe used to inject her with the virus. His DNA was found. Intelligence chatter also revealed that he had been working with known associates of the _Ubiytsa_. The pieces fell into place - but most of it was circumstantial. Much like most of the individuals we suspect, there is never enough evidence to show their involvement with Volkov" He eyed up the agent but maintained his position. Granger wasn't stupid enough to think that this latest bombshell didn't have the capacity of sending her over the edge - but it was the only way that he knew of pushing her in the right direction.

"You had his DNA - you could have arrested him or something?!" Her eyes remained closed as she digested the information.

"The decision was made -"

"To let him continue on - see what information i could drag out of him as i fell in love with the man?! Is that it!?"

"It was an executive decision, that in hindsight, was the wrong one" He admitted.

"You've got that right!" The tears began to fall once more from her eyes, still closed, disgusted with herself, just thinking about having continued a relationship with the man that killed Katya. She turned away from him but didn't take a step. She just didn't want him to see her cry as she found herself once more accepting the fact that NCIS had used and abused her for most of her life. Spoon fed lies that she just sucked up like her life depended on it. Why was she even surprised?

Cassandra opened her eyes and dropped her arms to her side, taking a moment to decide whether to jump in the car and go or not.

"Now is not the time for this" Grangers tone was exasperated "There is more at stake - and he's dead now anyway" He added, nonchalant

"You are a real arse" She hissed

"I don't aim to be friends with anyone" he coughed lightly at his comment

"Well, you certainly comply with that fact" She sighed, raising her hands to her eyes once more - applying pressure to stop the tears.

"Forget the emotion - i need you to think" He ordered

"Thank about what?!" She raised her voice at him. "You've just told me that the man i loved is my sisters killer - and you want me to be ok with that?" She made an attempt to move, but Granger was quick to get her attention.

"I didn't say that i wanted you to be ok with anything. I said i wanted you to think" He grabbed her arm for the second time "If Mizrahi killed Katya, then why has Joshua waited until now to kill him? Did he not want to do the same for her?"

Cassandra opened her mouth to tell him to let her go - but then the words he spoke finally computed. She took a moment to think about these words, piecing together little anomalies that had occurred over the years until she came to an unexpected conclusion.

"Interesting" She whispered, calmly, her previous rage dissipating instantly at the thought.

"What?" He asked, surprised at her sudden change in demeanour. After all these years, he still couldn't get used to her unexpected mood swings. She put him on edge.

"You actually came up with a good line of enquiry. Congratulations" her tone was flippant. Once again she twisted her arm out of his grasp then proceeded to extended her hand out towards him. "Give me your phone"

"Why?"

"Ask no questions and you'll get no lies." She raised an eyebrow and pushed her hand closer towards him "I'm not going anywhere, you can hear the phone conversation" After taking a moment to think about it, Granger complied, eyeing her up suspiciously as she entered a number she knew by heart and place the phone on speaker.

The phone rang only twice before it was answered by:

"Vance"

"It's me" Cassandra stated, watching Granger shift towards her as if he were to miss some part of the conversation.

"Wyatt. Is everything ok?" Vance asked, worry in his voice.

"Define 'ok'?" Cassandra had expected to be questioned as to why she was using Granger's phone - but he knew her well enough by now to know that she was resourceful and had no qualms at stealing other agents phones.

"What can i do for you?" He asked. Cassandra imagined him sitting up extremely straight as he spoke to her. Their conversations were always tense - for _him_ anyway.

"I need three favours" She stated

"Ok" He didn't question her.

"Number one - Can you fire Assistant Director Granger for me?" Cassandra smiled sweetly at the man before her who snarled.

"Cassandra" Vance warned

"Ok ok, it was worth a try." She rolled her eyes, a pulled back as Granger reached for the phone "Number two - " she continued "I need you not to ask me any questions"

"Ok" Once again, he simply complied

"Number three - I need you to ask Abby to run a comparison on mine, Joshua's and Katya's DNA" Cassandra clocked Grangers puzzled look but didn't have time to elaborate.

"What's going on, Cassandra?" Leon asked, his voice laced with faux calm.

"Favour number two, Leon" She reminded, kindly.

"I would ask Miss Scuito to do this, but you know we destroyed all of Katya's samples. They were infected and -"

"Yes, yes - i know. I was there" Her voice was slightly harsher than she had intended. Not enough time had passed for the memories of finding Katya's body surrounded by Bio-hazard equipment to fade. She was sure that they would remain as vivid as the very day she saw her for the rest of her life. "I asked Gibbs to look after a locket for me" She continued "Inside there is a lock of Katya's hair. I'm positive that there is enough follicles there to get a comprehensive profile. And this needs to be done ASAP."

"Agent Wyatt I -"

She hang up and proceeded to hand the phone back to Granger, who no longer looked puzzled

"You don't think she is your sister?" He enquired, putting all of the information he had gathered throughout the conversation into place. Cassandra couldn't fault his deductive capabilities, but she would, simply because it's him.

"I think that _he_ thinks that she's not our sister." She corrected "We'll wait for the results"

"Agent Wyatt." He pocketed the phone "No more rouge" He warned, knowing full well what he was expecting this woman to do.

"I'll keep you in the loop" She promised "But the only thing I ask is that you stay out of my way" Reluctantly, he nodded, knowing it was the best deal he was going to get.

"Things aren't going to get better and I don't want you all dragged into this - i can't deal with another once of ' _those_ ' operations" Her hands flew up once more to her face as she rubbed her fingertips around her eyes. It was going to be another one of those days - she could feel it.

"What about agent Callen?" He glanced over, once more to the house, catching Callen's eye through the curtains. Despite not caring much for making friends - he would move heaven and hell to keep his agents out of harms way. And the box on the porch showed how much danger Callen could be in if things went bad - which, around this woman, it had a tendency to do.

"Just let me worry about him. I have a plan."

* * *

"I don't like this G" Sam repeated for the umpteenth time.

"I know Sam - i'm not jumping for joy either" He continued to search the bedroom where they were currently stood. He didn't want to think about this in any other way than just a normal case. Search for evidence of entry, search for bugs, search for anything that would keep his mind off the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"No. But you're getting involved." His stated matter-of-factly "She might be a 10, but you are going to be a 0 if you don't walk away" He glanced through the curtains towards the woman who was currently engaging in conversation with their Assistant Director. She reminded him of the black widows he met during his time as a navy seal - lured you in just to stick the knife in your heart. Like a strange sort of succubus. He smiled at his imaginative analogy.

"I can take care of myself" Callen retorted

"Alright, but just let me know what colour flowers you want for the funeral." He shrugged, returning to the routine search of the premises.

"Pink. You know pink is my colour" Callen smiled at his partner, grabbing a few of the books on the bookcase to check behind them. Nothing there.

"I'm serious. Just watch your back" Sam warned with a knowing tone. Callen had let people blind him before, but never this much. Sam wondered whether it was because his partner saw a lot of himself in the woman that could now be heard shouting in the garden. She was volatile - Like Callen; She had no respect for authority - Like Callen; She came from a broken home - Like Callen; She was probably one of Hettys projects - Like Callen; Two broken pieces of a broken puzzle no-one knows how to put together.

"I thought that's what you were here for?" Callen put the books back and turned towards his partner, still trying to make light of the situation.

"Yeah - I am." He agreed "But i'm worried you ain't gonna let me do what i have to do to save that sorry ass of yours" he smiled back at his partner. He would do anything to save his ass - anything.

"Any luck?" Kensi walked in through the back door, followed promptly by the other two, Deeks talking animately on the phone.

"Nothing - I think they just left the heads and drove off. I can't see any sign of anything being tampered in here" Sam stated, removing his gloves. He hated how restricting they were.

"Isn't there supposed to be surveillance in here?" Kensi asked, looking around the corners of the room. She remembered having watched the surveillance footage from safe houses in previous cases. She was surprised that it wouldn't have picked up any movement and set off some sort of alarm bells.

"Just got off the phone to Eric. Seems that goldilocks disabled the surveillance system" Deeks revealed, an unsurprising look on his face.

"Of course she did" Sam shook his head in disbelief "I don't like this G" he said, once again.

Callen didn't reply. He was distracted by the photo by the bedside table. He moved closer and picked up the photo. He took a moment to look at the happy faces in the photo, focusing on the image of a young Cassandra, thumbs up and leant into the man he had had the pleasure to work with. Gibbs hadn't changed since he met him so many years before. It made him smile to see how well this moment was captured. His thoughts were cut short by the gruff sound of Grangers voice.

"Grab your gear. Detective, I want you to go down to the precinct and interrogate Korablyov. Get any information about doctors or whatever is on his books that could dissect and preserve a head. Make him a deal to get him to talk." Deeks nodded in acknowledgement "Agent Callen. I need you and Agent Hanna to go back to OSP. Get those loony goons up in Ops to get you all the information they have. You're with me" He directed the last comment towards Nate, who opened his mouth to ask but, intelligently, he decided not to bother.

"What about me?" Kensi asked

"Agent Blye, why don't you keep Wyatt company today?" a hint of a smile appeared on his face before he turned to exit the building

"I don't think -" Kensi began

"What don't you think?" His tone was daring her to give him an answer. She didn't.

"Nothing" She replied bleakly, shooting a look at Callen who simply shook his head. It wasn't worth the fight. Not right now.

"That's what i thought. Now get your asses into gear before _I_ make heads start rolling" It was a poor joke on his part, but he made a point.

"Alright. Let's get groovy" Deeks attempt to make light of the situation was lost on the agents as they followed Granger out the house, greeted by the forensic team that had just arrived to collect the actual rolling heads.

Outside, Cassandra remained back against the brick wall of the safe house. No more were those feelings of emptiness - now, she felt nervous. What would it mean if Katya wasn't their sister? What would it mean if Joshua knew that? What motive would Joshua have to think this or even care? What did this all mean? And - NCIS - what were they thinking? Keeping information from her again? Did they not think that she would just walk away after more lies?

 _I don't know why i'm not walking! Let them deal with it - beach house in the Bahamas. Yes. That's where i'm going…_

She shook the thoughts out of her head, the thought of leaving slightly too tempting. She watched as Nate shot her a weak smile as he rushed to keep up with the defiant steps of the assistant director. She burrowed her eyebrows in curiosity.

 _What does Granger want with Nate?_

"Never a dull moment" Callen's voice was accompanied by the feeling of his hand on her shoulder.

"Never" She replied smiling weakly, her eyes now following grangers car down the road.

"We'll stop him. I promise" his voice was sincere. She looked up at him and contemplated asking him to escape to her imaginary beach house. She burrowed her eyebrows at her strange thought.

"I know. But if you don't go, I think your partner is going to kill you and you won't be able to help me stop Joshua so… shoo" she accompanied her words with the hand movements.

"Touche." He glanced over his shoulder and laughed at the sight of his partner looking disapprovingly in their direction, arms crossed as he leant next to the car. "Talk later?"

"Over beer - I need a beer - plural, actually." She suddenly really felt to need to walk down to the marina and drink herself into oblivion. It didn't matter it was only 9 am - right?

"That sounds like a good plan" He released her and walked over to the car, raising his arms defensively at his partner, who still stood looking over at her with those challenging eyes. She simply waved at him with a sweet smile on her face, laughing lightly as he entered the car and drove off in the blink of an eye.

"So" Kensi stood before her, nervousness apparent on her face "what's the plan?"

"I don't know - you tell me." Cassandra shrugged "I think you've been put in charge of baby sitting me. I've practically been told to step back and let the men do the work" Cassandra gestured towards to the road where the three cars that were there just moments before had left containing the testosterone "But on the plus side - I did swipe Grangers credit card - Shall we just be women and get some beauty treatments?" Cassandra flashed the card along with a smile.

Kensi's expression was a mix between being impressed and being disgusted at the idea.

"Oh come on - " She put the card in her pocket "He knows I have the card and, even though i do intend to use it, probably to buy a beach house in the Bahamas" She nodded to herself at the idea "- there is actually a lead we can follow."

"Alright then" Kensi's face lit up

"Good - lets make a move then" Cassandra pushed herself off the wall and made her way towards the last remaining car on the street outside her house, leaving the forensic team to deal with the horrors in the boxes.

* * *

The drive to the mall was undertaken in complete silence. Cassandra was relishing in the uncommunicative state her makeshift partner for the day had instilled upon them both. It was the perfect opportunity for her to distract herself with the sights and sounds that were flickering past the moving vehicle. Anything was better than the thoughts that were fluttering about in the back of her mind. She couldn't afford to lose herself quite yet - there was a task at hand… and it wasn't an easy one at that.

"We're here" Kensi's redundant comment was accompanied by the sound of the car engine dying as she took the key out of the ignition. Cassandra resisted the urge to roll her eyes, putting the superfluous indication of their arrival down to nerves. Kensi was nervous about being with her; and she wasn't the only one.

It hadn't gone unnoticed that since their departure, Kensi's phone had received a minimum of ten messages. She was sure that Deeks was requesting an update on her vital status - and he wasn't wrong to worry. Cassandra may have demonstrated herself in that she would literally push Kensi out of harms way - it seemed more likely that not, that if you were by her side, you would end up in a box; be it a coffin box or a package - dead is usually the vital state associated with those that kept such bad company.

"He won't stop worrying if you don't answer him" Cassandra mentioned, as she exited the vehicle, shutting the door behind her with unintended force. She even jumped slightly at the slamming sound.

"You're probably right" Kensi mused, pulling out her phone and typing quickly. "He's always like this" she said, followed by a nervous laugh

Cassandra raised and eyebrow at her "Sure he is" Her tone made it obvious that she didn't believe it - but Kensi didn't make any further comments.

They began to make their way to the entrance of the mall, navigating themselves throughout the crowd up the escalator until they reached their first destination.

"A salon?" Kensi asked, her thoughts obvious on her face. She actually believed that they were there to get the beauty treatments as she had suggested, in jest. Although Cassandra's reflection really did need a make-over, that wasn't the purpose of their attendance.

"Not just any salon" She spoke, rubbing her hands against the bottom of her shirt once more, ridding herself of all those invisible creases. "This salon belongs to the Ivanka Barbulescu" Cassandra looked around for any obvious signs of them having been followed. She saw nothing that set any alarm bells ringing "This woman has a knack for collection information and if anyone is going to know whose hands are steady enough to remove a mans head and preserve it so quickly and efficiently, it's her" Once more she surveyed the area, before taking in a deep breath and walking into the establishment, Kensi right on the heels.

The salon itself was bright and extremely colourful. Once again, Cassandra was amazed at how easy it was to disguise the evil that was stored within the very walls of L.A.'s businesses. There was no clear sign to anyone that walked by establishment that this was a meeting ground for some of the most notorious intelligence gatherers, exchanging tidbits of information for the kicks and kills. It was here that Cassandra, herself, had made some of her most important contacts who had provided her with the intel that led to the operation in Virginia last year. The intel was had been good - but Joshua had been better.

Slowly, they walked in, generally unnoticed by the girls bustling around, grabbing their products and running from one woman to another. There were so many women around, it was to no wonder that Kensi caught sight of the only male within the establishment, her eyes burrowing as she questioned her conclusions.

"Is - is that one of those Cohen Brothers?" Kensi's voice was slightly above a whisper as she indicated with an almost unnoticeable gesture to the back of the shop. Cassandra's eyes followed along and her body tensed in confirmation.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Cassandra mused out-loud. She watched as he began to look around. She turned quickly, but not quick enough as Ranit Cohen, the youngest of the two brothers, caught sight of the pair stood in the doorway and made a run for it.

"HEY!" Kensi shouted, grabbing her gun and bolting after him. Cassandra sighed momentarily as she followed suit, running on tip toes as not to put too much pressure on her side. It was lucky for her that she had grown accustomed to running around with a broken bone or too, or she wouldn't have been able to keep up with the brunette.

"Federal Agents! STOP!" Kensi continued to order, catching up to the man. Cassandra watched as Ranit skipped out of her grasp by jumping over the escalator side and down onto the ground floor, followed swiftly by Kensi, who landed into a roll, which was convenient as Ranit began to shoot aimlessly from over his shoulder.

The sound of shots caused panic in the shopping centre, which made Cassandra's journey slightly less efficient. Choosing not to follow directly, she continued along the first floor until she reached a staircase at the end of the walkway, jumping over the banister and landing just in front of Ranit who was still glancing over his shoulder at Kensi.

"Ta'atsor o sheani yoreh bekha!" Cassandra hissed, raising her gun to him. She had ordered him to stop, or face being shot. He complied with her order - sort of. — He did stop, but only for a moment before stepping to the side and grabbing hold of a young girl who had obviously not grasped the severity of the situation quick enough to run.

"Let her go!" Kensi, came up from behind and held her own weapon towards the man, who now began to shift to the side, glancing to and fro between both of the women; static, guns raised and readied.

The young girl began to cry as he applied more pressure to her chest as he dragged her back with him.

"Let me go - or I kill her" He threatened the agents, pointing the gun to the young girls head.

"Ta'atsor o sheani yoreh bekha!" Cassandra repeated. She caught the flash of a camera out the corner of her eye and couldn't help but scowl. She'd find that person and slap them for their insensitive nature but she didn't have long to dwell on this thought as she saw her opportunity. Ranit had also caught sight of the photographer and tensed up. This meant his hand raised just an inch with the contraction of his body - giving her the opening she needed to shoot, without the risk of hitting the girl.

His hand blew up before her eyes, the gun, flying over his shoulder, just in front of Kensi, who swooped it up and reached to grab the girl away from the man, now crippled before the blonde, shouting profanities at her as he grasped his hand - or what was left of it any way. "Ani tsarikhe leharug otekha raq bigelal zeh!" She stepped closer to him, threatening to take his sorry life "Emor li, etsel mi atah 'oved?!" She asked who he was working for, but he did not make any attempt to answer. He was too busy cradling his bloody stump to even process her words, falling silent in a fetal position on the epoxy coated floor.

Frustrated, she lowered her gun and looked over to Kensi, who was on the phone, the young girl still clasping on her for dear life.

"-Ok. We'll bring him in." Kensi cut the call and placed her phone in her pocket before shooting an odd smile to Cassandra "It's all excitement with you, isn't it"

Cassandra contemplated her words as she put her weapon away, mirroring Kensis' actions. "Oh Kensi, Kensi, Kensi" She began "You haven't seen the half of it".


	12. Chapter 12 - Painful Re-encounters

**AN: And here we are again - Cray Cray! So... on to the amazingness of the readers: angel897 your reviews are always so appreciated. You are always the first to give me feedback, and I love getting the notification saying you've reviewed! Also, Thank-you! countrygirluk56, i would like to personally thank-you for your reviews (and your Fav!), especially with regards to my portrayal of Granger. He was one of my fav characters, hence why i wanted him to be so prominent in the story. As an actor, Miguel was nothing less than a genius and I was truly heartbroken when i read that he had passed. I imagined the scene with him and Cassie from the last chapter and went line by line to make sure that it was as if he were reading a script. Thank-you.**

 **To NaliaL, i would like to say thank-you for following this story and to readhead0121, anonymous-who, darkpercy5 and, again, countrygirluk56 for adding this story to your favs.**

 **I am so grateful to have all of your support and would like to say thanks to all of the readers. Whether you have been here from the start, you are new or just come by from time to time, all i can ask for is that you enjoy the story as much as i love writing it.**

 **Please enjoy yet another exiting chapter :)**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

The afternoon was filled with conversations after explanations after questions and the whole cycle over and over again. SecNav wasn't happy with Cassandra's continued public displays of reckless behaviour, and questioned, while Cassandra was in the room, whether the Russian born agent should even still be allowed to form part of this investigation, insinuating, quite bluntly, that she didn't trust her at all.

Cassandra had sarcastically thanked her for her comments, and proceeded to hand in her imaginary notice, stating that she had, in fact (for once), worked within the boundaries that NCIS were forcing her to adhere to. She reiterated that, thanks to Cassandra's and Kensi's swift response to the situation, NCIS had a key suspect in custody and the hostage he had grabbed had been taken home without a scratch on her; yet she was _still_ being placed on what seemed like a trial. She was tired of them, their secrets, their orders and their pathetic attempts to find fault in everything that she did.

Unsurprisingly, Leon did not accept her resignation. He made it very clear that Cassandra was their only way to even get close to stopping the _Ubiytsa_ and ended his unnecessarily long spiel by assuring SecNav that all members of NCIS that had been working on this case backed Cassandra 100% - something that Cassandra had scoffed at. Not _everyone_ backed her.

Granger wasn't happy with Cassandra - as per usual. More specifically, he was angered by the almost immediate appearance of her photograph in the media. Once more, Cassandra had stressed that she was not at fault - The goddam photographer was just in the wrong place at the right time. How was she to know? Yet, it wasn't enough. Cassandra had drawn attention to herself and her affiliation with NCIS which would only bring further problems to deal with later. Although Cassandra agreed with him, on some level, she couldn't help but throw her arms up in frustration and ask the balding man: _"What the fuck do you want from me?"_ Granger scowled at her and reiterated that he throughly defended SecNavs position: If Cassandra continued to push the boundaries, she would suffer the necessary consequences - What ever that meant.

SecNav had jumped in before Cassandra could bite back, asking whether it was in anyones best interests that she, Cassandra, continue on the case when, after 15 years, they seemed no closer to a resolution.

"Are you suggesting that I am deliberately sabotaging the investigation?" Cassandra asked, utterly dumbfounded.

"I am merely stating that I think that a fresh perspective may get us closer to the end goal; shutting your brother down for good" She had shot a defiant look at the young agent.

Cassandra didn't like Porter at all. Not only was she a politician, which Cassandra automatically took a disliking too, but Sarah Porter had actively gone out of her way to push Cassandra's buttons since her appointment. True, Cassandra deserved some of the abuse - she _had_ blown her off the first time she met the new SecNav, stating that, and quote: _'I am not taking orders from no bimbo. How do you expect that woman to replace Jarvis'_

 _"_ Was that the official line when you finally decided that Saddam Hussein or Osama Bin Laden should be 'shut down'" Cassandra continued, ensuring she exaggerated the last two words and added air quotes for effect "Because, if I recall, Saddam Hussein was around for about two decades before he was _finally_ categorised as a terrorist" Cassandra continued "And lets not get into the Bin Laden situation and how it was the US's depleting interest in his services that got him -"

"That is quite enough, Agent Wyatt!" Granger snapped

"Do you not like the point I am making, Assistant Director?" Cassandra retorted in much the same tone.

Neither Porter nor Vance made any attempts to interrupt the death stare that was forming between the two strong minded individuals. Hetty, however, had no qualms with doing so.

"Will you both stop acting like children" Hetty's tone was exasperated as she turned towards the big screen where both Porter and Vance remained in silence "May I suggest we take a time out to evaluate the situation." She looked down at her watch "It is almost five o'clock, it's Friday and I don't believe there is much more to discuss." She placed her hands behind her back and linked her fingers together, awaiting the response of her 'superiors'.

"Very well" Vance nodded "I will be in L.A. at zero nine hundred hours on Monday." And with that, his side of the screen turned black. Almost instantly afterwards, Porter cut the line without uttering another word.

Silence had no time to fall upon the three remaining figures as Granger's annoyance was quickly vocalised "You happy?" Granger muttered to Hetty who turned quickly, burning rage on her features.

"Happy? Of course I'm not Happy! You should know better than to play this game!" Cassandra took a step back and lifted herself atop the comms table, crossing her arms over her torso to watch the argument unfold. One of the things she liked most about Hetty, was when she flipped at someone that wasn't herself - and especially so when it was Granger. It didn't happen as much as she liked. She only wished that she had popcorn.

"You think this is a game?" He asked, his tone darkened as he turned to look at her straight on "This is goddam serious"

"Then start acting like it is!" Hetty snapped "I have lost more than a few good men to this monster -" Cassandra grimaced at the comment, and although she saw Hetty glance at her through the corner of her beady eyes, she didn't cease her assault "I have watched the rise of this man since the very beginning and I will be damned if you and your politics take away the only chance we have to stop him" All that was left was for her to stamp her feet. To Cassandra's chagrin, she did not. "So, come Monday, you can either leave or start fighting for the right team, Assistant Director"

At that comment, Hetty, had simply dragged Cassandra off the centre table and out of the locked down OPs, leaving Granger stupefied at their abrupt departure.

"Ungrateful, deplorable man" She muttered, making her way through the corridors with Cassandra in her stead. Cassandra had learnt to turn off from her own ridiculous interactions with Granger when he played politician. She often wished he'd stick to his role as member of NCIS, much like he had hours before, thus still exercising his authority, but without a stick in his arse.

"That's Granger for you" Cassandra shrugged, following Hetty towards her open plan office, taking a seat and slouching very unladylike in the wicker chair. "I'd just like to state that I didn't do anything _that_ unordinary - I shot a guy in the mall to save the girl. Any other agent would have done the same" She pushed her legs beneath her body, readjusting herself into a less ungracious position.

"You know as well as I do that it was not _that_ incident they were referring to, Cassandra" One thing Cassandra was on the fence about, in regards to Hetty, was her blunt way at approaching certain topics; and it always seemed that the result of these topics was the blame falling, once more, onto her own lap.

"You defending them now?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at the small, but fearsome woman.

"Not at all - but I can't help but wonder why you didn't tell me" Her hands were steepled below her chin, her eyes boring into Cassandra's, searching for the answer. Cassandra finally realised which incident she was referring to.

 _Elijah..._

"I don't have an answer for that" She answered, quietly, looking away, her blunt honesty mimicking that of her conversational counterpart.

"Do you not trust me?" If Hetty's question wasn't meant to be rhetorical, it certainly ended up being. Cassandra didn't move a muscle. "Well, I suppose I deserve that, somewhat" She spoke, slightly down-heartened at the silent revelation.

"I didn't say anything" Cassandra spoke, confused at her tone.

"No, but your face speaks a thousand words." Hetty smiled sadly at the agent "It always has"

Cassandra and Hetty's story had began many years before. A chance meeting, in reality, that turned out to be the beginning of something dreadful - but at the same time, beautiful.

Hetty had not been assigned to the Office of Special projects for very long before she continued her renowned selection and recruitment process. Her most recent 'project' had been a young agent of American-Irish decent. Young Agent Sullivan. He was a promising young lad that had more potential than any of the others she had met before. He was just brilliant. Sharp shot, cunning mind and a real ladies man. There were no words to describe how much of a positive impact he had bestowed upon her team. This was the main reason his loss had been so devastating.

He had been the first to die on her watch; and selfishly, she had wished that it had been anyone else but him. Those were exactly the type of thoughts that had rushed through her mind when she had attended the funeral, especially when she had extended her condolences to the crying mother who had flown in from her home town of County Kerry, Ireland.

Amelia Sullivan had turned Hetty's heart strings in a knot - more so when she found out that she was more than familiar with the funeral process, having been widowed just months before. A flippant comment had also revealed that she had outlived her sister, Aoife, who had committed suicide a few years previous. Hetty's guilt had almost consumed her entirely in that moment - that was until she met another member of the family. Amelia's niece, daughter of the sister than had taken her own life - Cassandra.

It was later that Hetty find out that Sullivan was Amelia's married name - and her maiden name was Wyatt. Her initial research showed that Amelia had adopted her nieces after their father had been killed.

1 + 1 = 2

Hetty realised that this blonde girl was one of those that NCIS had orphaned in one of the many operations in Russia.

2 + 2 = 4

Hetty became aware of Cassandra's true motives in the US.

4 + 4 = 8

Hetty organised a large scale operation to extract, convert and conceal Cassandra's motives - She wanted her. And here she was.

"As do many members of my team" Hetty added, returning back to the present day conversation.

Cassandra didn't need to look over her shoulder to know to whom she was referring. She could hear the incessant pacing from across the room and it was actually beginning to make her nervous.

"Did you know about Elijah?" She finally asked, looking up at the woman before her, really questioning whether the connection between Elijah and her sisters death was true or not.

"No" Hetty answered honestly "I had no idea, until today".

"And if you did, would you have told me?" Her question was met with silence and a sad smile. "That's what I thought. I'm not the only one that is an open book" Cassandra rolled her eyes and made the decision to leave. She didn't want to continue this conversation, or any for that matter.

"Cassandra -"

"Well, I don't know about you but - " She glanced at her watch, pretending she cared for the time. She was going to leave what ever time it was "- I am in need for a cold beverage - alcoholic in nature and I think i'm going to indulge in that" Cassandra struggled to move from the comfort of her awkward position, but made the effort to do so.

"Cassandra"

"Yes, Hetty?" Her tone was exasperated.

"I really am glad to have you back" Hetty smiled, leaning back to look over the agent. She had grown from such a volatile, damaged young girl into an equally volatile, but much more stable and wonderful young woman.

"In all honestly…" Cassandra paused, and turned to look at Hetty, her hardened features softening at the sight of her aged smile. "So am I. Somehow." Cassandra replied genuinely, mirroring the smile and finally taking her leave.

* * *

 _"_ Hey Goldilocks!" Deeks jumped up from his seat and called out from across the bullpen "They finished ripping you a new one?" A smile crawled upon his face, as he gestured with his head to the place from which she just came. She looked over towards Hetty's office to see that she had since been joined by the Assistant Director, both exchanging disapproving looks as they engaged in one of their authoritarian exchanges.

"Pfft - they can try" Cassandra replied nonchalant. She wasn't going to let that bother her, right now. No. She had to remain in her current frame of mind or risk falling into another broken state. She had still to digest the newest revelations - let alone attempt to work through it. She plastered a smile upon her face and continued to address the blond detective. "Brought you something" She through a small teddy bear, wearing a pink dress, that she had swiped from one of the stands in the Mall while they awaited the arrival of the paramedics "It's a ' _momma_ ' bear" She was quite proud of her response to his 'goldilocks' references.

"Whaaaat? I'm papa bear" Deeks' face resonated complete disbelief, placing the bear on his desk in a faux tantrum. Whether it was because of the gesture or the insinuation, she wasn't sure, but it made her smile all the same.

"Pfft - you ain't no papa bear" Sam interjected, subconsciously flexing his muscles - or at least Cassandra assumed it was a subconscious action.

"Sam's right - if anyone was going to be papa bear it would be him" Cassandra shrugged, walking around the table and sitting in the seat he had occupied just moments before.

It was at this moment she caught the sightline of the man who had been the source of the annoying sound of pacing around the foyer. She shot him a small smile, raising her eyebrow slightly as if questioning his own state of mind. Callen returned the smile, and took a seat opposite her at his own desk. This silent exchange assured both parties that they were ok - a silent promise that she would indulge in his line of questioning later - but after the beer.

"How did the talk with the QDE go?" Kensi piped up, asking her partner as she began to pack up her things. Cassandra pried her eyes away from Callen's and twisted her chair towards Deeks. She hadn't known that they were going to continue to question Korablyov. It was a futile move, that she would have advised on had Granger not been so quick to give stupid orders.

"Same as before - clammed up and now he doesn't speak english. We are going no-where fast with that one" Deeks' tone was light, although his body language showed he was defeated. He must have spent a long time trying to get the man to talk.

"You won't." Cassandra replied. She wanted to give him some sort of explanation for his failure that didn't make him doubt his own abilities "He owes more than his life to Joshua - he wouldn't give anything up. Firstly out of respect and secondly out of fear."

"Fear?" Kensi asked leaning against her desk.

"Men have died inside your prison system because Joshua has wanted it." Cassandra shrugged.

"We need to kill this guy" Cassandra smiled at Sam's snarky comment and simply nodded in response. That certainly was a top priority - but not right at this moment.

"But in the mean time - beer" Deeks had literally read her mind.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all day" and Sam took the words right out of her mouth. All members of the team proceeded to grab their things and chatter about random bits an pieces. Cassandra couldn't believe how quickly the day had gone - her cyclical conversation with the authority figures had robbed her of her entire afternoon. On the plus side, it was now not an unorthodox idea to drink oneself into oblivion.

"You coming goldilocks?" Deeks chirped, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

"Ummm…?" Cassandra began, wondering whether it was a good idea to drown her sorrows in large quantities of tequila in present company, or better to work through her demons alone.

"Come on - it's not like you any other plans right?" He continued.

"Thanks Deeks" Cassandra laughed, grabbing the bear and throwing it at him. "I've got to sort some things out -"

"Which will still be there tomorrow." He interrupted, making a good point "Come on have some fun! Momma bear will look after the chores for you until you get back" shaking the bear towards her.

Cassandra squinted her eyes at the blond agent. "You really are like a dog with a bone"

"Now i'm a dog!" He through his arms up in faux disbelief

"With a bone" She added

"Ok, you guys are eating into my drinking time. I'm off - meet you there" Sam waved over his shoulder as he moved towards the exit.

"Hey big man, i'm with you on that!" Deeks followed with Kensi a step behind.

"You coming?" She asked

Who was she kidding? Cassandra could not resist the offer. It was high time that she took a night off. "Alright. But on one condition" he pushed herself up from Deeks' chair, which, incidentally, was extremely comfortable.

"Anything" Kensi's smile slipped into the simple word as she seemed to light up at the thought. Cassandra saw a lot of her former self in Kensi - a strong, determined female, perfectly incorporated into a team of males who she could beat at any moment. Cassandra actually felt slight admiration for the woman, even if her reflexes left a lot to be desired.

"Tell your little jack Russel to stop gnawing?" Cassandra mirrors Kensis' smile. Kensi nodded and made her way towards the foyer to meet Eric and Nell who were making their way down the staircase. Cassandra took the opportunity to then turn to look directly at the man who had yet to speak a word.

It was true that a couple of weeks before, Cassandra Wyatt had been adamant to remain as detached from the group as possible. It had been her idea to do the same when she had joined Gibbs' team years - but, as with all things, history was bound to repeat itself. Times like this either ripped people apart, or brought them together - and seeing as Cassandra had no-one to be ripped apart from, it was only natural that she would end up falling into the latter category. She didn't need friends, _that_ she knew, but being part of the team couldn't be all bad, could it?

 _it's only temporary anyway!_ She reminded herself, thus calming her nerves slightly. Soon this would be over and she would finally be able to just go home.

"Mr. Callen" Cassandra addressed him, in faux formality.

"Miss Wyatt" He responded in much the same manner, smiling at her.

Cassandra returned the smile. "I would be rude to keep them waiting, don't you think?" She was trying to make light of everything. She wasn't quite ready to go through the process of realisation and acceptance of the newest chaotic state that was instilling around them.

"You're probably right" he stretched out in his chair. She could hear the clicking of his shoulders as he did so, which caused her to cringe.

"That's really disgusting" She muttered, causing his smile to grow.

"Really?" As he stood, he purposely cracked his neck, back and then began with each, individual finger.

"Ok ok - jesus! Stop clicking and start walking" she raised her hands to her ears and began making her way to the foyer, joining the others, making sure to avoid eye contact with the pair of authoritarian figures that remained seated in the little office area.

"You ok?" Kensi asked, an bemused look on her face, glancing over to the man that was readying himself behind them. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see what was happening, and how comfortable all of them had suddenly become with the blonde agent that had originally disturbed the natural flow of things. True, it helped tremendously that Cassandra had saved her life already, but Kensi couldn't deny that she was beginning to actually like the woman. She knew that Deeks had decided he accepted her from the start, a stance she was sure he took simply because he had been the new guy once, and hated the cold shoulder treatment. Sam probably still had his reservations, but that was natural for him and Callen - well…

"As ready as one can be on a Friday night" Cassandra replied, snapping Kensi out of her thoughts. She smiled at the blonde and nodded in agreement. This week had been too long and she was looking forward to a nice cold beer with the guys.

Cassandra lowered her hands and placed them in her pockets. She was notorious for not knowing what to do with her hands, and unfortunately she couldn't sit on them when she was standing.

"Come on then" Callen spoke, joining the group.

"Alrighty then" Nell chirpped, taking the lead out of the building, to the nearest establishment, where Sam and Deek's were already sat with a round of cold beer awaiting the dawdlers.

 _Just what i needed_

* * *

The bar, in which the team were sat, was buzzing with live jazz music ricocheting all around the bar. The team chatted away and drank more and more, subconsciously keeping up with the steady rhythm of the double bass that was the powerful undertone to all the songs that were being played. They'd started just talking about random things; Deeks using most of his words to poke fun at the temporary addition to the team. Cassandra took no offence to this, putting it down to nerves, alcohol and maybe, relief? However, upon the third set of Russian jokes being thrown her way, Cassandra decided she needed another drink. She did have Grangers card after all.

"Anyone else up for another one?" She asked, pulling grabbing the bottom of her t-shirt as she arose, stopping it from riding up her side.

"Yep!" Deeks immediately replied.

"Go on then" Sam nodded, downing the last bit of his beer. Nell, Eric and Callen all nodded in response.

"I'll come with you" Kensi spoke, almost in relief. Cassandra couldn't help but laugh as she noted the slight embarrassment Deeks' onslaught had caused Kensi. The pair grabbed up the empty glasses and made their way to the bar.

Despite the amazing atmosphere that surrounded them, the path to the bar was quite easy to find, with only two or three gentlemen that could be considered 'in the way'. Cassandra simply nudged them lightly, flashed a smile and the men made every attempt to comply with the silent order; the last even taking the glasses from her hand and taking them to the bar himself before asking for her number. Cassandra didn't even reply, losing her smile, rolling her eyes and stepping over towards Kensi who was waiting for her at the bar.

"You must get that often" Kensi stated, a huge grin upon her face.

"What? Engaging with a guy that only things to get something in return. No. Never." She replied sarcastically, pushing the glasses Kensi had placed upon the bar towards to edge, as to get the barman's attention.

"Ah, shame. He's cute." She laughed as she looked over her shoulder at the young man that was still looked a little shocked at Cassandra's sudden departure. Cassandra followed her gaze and simply rolled her eyes again.

"Too young. Too stupid. Not my type. And yes please!" Cassandra held her hand up and waved to the barman, who seemed less than impressed at her outburst.

"So what _is_ your type then?" Kensi asked, coyly, a question that was dismissed immediately by with blonde who proceeded to ask for another round of drinks for the table.

Normally, Cassandra would never speak about her personal life with others. It was not part of her personality. On the odd occasion she did, it would never have anything to do with high-school talk; partly due to the fact that most of her so-called friends were male and secondly… it was none of their business. It actually surprised her that the woman before her engaged in such conversation. She expected more from her - even if she was half drunk.

Without a word, Cassandra handed the credit card over to the barman, who again, looked deeply unimpressed at the treatment she was giving him, and then handed drinks to Kensi, who still had a stupid grin on her face. Cassandra proceeded to shoo her away, while she waited for the barman to complete the other drinks and return to her the card.

Kensi looked like she was going to comply with her silent order without hesitation, but she suddenly stopped, putting she drinks back on the bar and addressed the blonde.

"Cassandra, can I say something?" She began, her previous smile disappearing and being replaced by one much more serious expression.

"That depends" Cassandra retorted, deadpan

"On What?" Kensi asked, her tone filled with slight amusement.

"On the direction that it would take the conversation"

"What does that even mean?" Kensi's amusement had disappeared with the smile. She was confused and Cassandra could tell that she was growing impatient with the evasiveness with which Cassandra often answered their questions. She had been careful not to be too revealing during this evenings conversations; a habit she would probably never grow out of.

"It means that I don't want to talk about what happened" Cassandra admitted, picking the card up off the bar where the barman had thrown it.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the woman and shook her head. She was sure it was down to the alcohol that Kensi felt personally effected by Cassandra's absence. She wasn't sure what Callens' excuse had been when he too accused her of avoiding him. It was a strange sensation to be accused of something like this - especially when they had no reason to expect anything from her in the first place. Why they had all attached themselves so quickly to her was a mystery - one that she was slowly coming to terms with. They were such a tight nit team, yet they were quick to invite people into the protective family - it was odd to her, to say the least.

"No, not you - merely this conversation" Cassandra grabbed a couple of the glasses and hoped that she had made her feelings clear.

"Why?" Kensi asked

O _bviously I didn't make it clear_

"Because I don't need to here what you have to say" Cassandra clarified; she had to stop herself asking whether she had slipped into another language at some point. She didn't understand how Kensi hadn't understood the fact that she didn't want to talk about it.

"Maybe, but did you ever think that maybe I needed to say it?" Cassandra stopped dead, the sound of the crowd around them sinking into nothing as she looked at the sincerity behind Kensis' eyes. No. She had never considered it. Why would she? Kensi was nothing to Cassandra. _right?_ Why should she care what Kensi needed? _Right?_ "You don't know me at all" Kensi continued "And even so, you literally threw yourself in front of a moving vehicle and - well, I guess, all I wanted to say was thank-you" Kensis' smile returned, causing a range of emotions to flicker though Cassandra's body, which she put down to the alcohol.

 _Of course._

Cassandra turned and put the drinks back on the bar before addressing her last comment.

"Look" Cassandra felt defeated and her body language mirrored that feeling. Her arms fell to her sides and her face looked tiredly on at the woman before her. "It doesn't matter that I know you or any of you for that matter -" she gestured towards to group, who, she saw were looking their way - probably wondering what was taking them so long. "-and i know i come across as a callous, cold, calculating bitch most of the time." Kensi's eyes flickered in amusement as Cassandra said this. "But i care -" She admitted, probably more to herself than to Kensi "I actually care a lot, which is why I come across as a callous, cold, calculating bitch, most of the time" Cassandra found herself laughing at herself. She actually felt slightly better, uplifted even, as she spoke to the woman before her.

 _Defo the alcohol._

"So for future reference, I will most likely, probably, if i'm in the right frame of mind, jump in front of a vehicle again for any of you… just don't make a habit of it. Nate is already on my back about the past 3 incidents -" Kensi tried to interject, but Cassandra shook her head quickly. If she didn't get this spiel out of her head now, she'd never do it. "So, I will never let anything happen to any of you so - I guess, you're welcome?" She was never very good at this stuff. Kensi simply smiled and nodded.

 _Surprising._

She had mentally reprimanded Kensi for having tried to pry into her personal life, and there she was, stood in the aftermath of revealing a lot about herself. Once again, she showed the hypocrite that lay beneath her skin.

"Good. And now that's over - lets take these drinks to the boys"

* * *

"What the hell is taking them so long?" Deeks asked, nervously peering over the booth like a meerkat

"Girl talk" Sam replied. He had been watching the pair out of the corner of his eye since they left.

"How do you know?" Deek's asked, his voice slightly absent as he watched the women grab the drinks and make their way back to the table.

Sam ignored Deeks and shot Callen, who was silently asking Deeks' question, a knowing smile. He loved it when is training came into play. He'd watched Cassandra's lips and finally felt like he could relax. He had to agree with her - She really was a callous, cold, calculating bitch most of the time, but he admired her ability to admit it.

"So, she's ok then?" Eric asked. He had been dying to ask from the moment he was sure Cassandra was out of earshot, however, he didn't want to interrupt the conversation before hand. Nell proceeded to backslap him in the chest. "OW!" He exclaimed dramatically.

"Yeah. She's ok" Sam replied, relaxing back into the booth, his knowing smile still directed towards his partner, who burrowed his eyebrows at him in annoyance. He loved it when he had Callen all confused.

"What's going on guys?" Kensi asked, placing the three beers she'd picked up in the centre of the table.

"Wondering whether you had to go ferment the beers yourself or now?" Sam replied, his knowledgable eyes shifting from Callen to Kensi. "Don't mind if i do" He added, grabbing the closest glass.

"All good?" Deeks asked, grabbing a beer himself

"Geez Deeks we were just at the bar - I didn't attempt to kidnap her or anything" Cassandra jumped in, handing Nell and Eric their glasses.

Deeks looked like a deer in headlights and almost choked on his beer. "I-i-i didn't mean-, I mean, well, what i meant to say was - "

"And _this_ is _your_ type?" Cassandra asked. She and Kensi exchanged looks and laughed, leaving the boys, and Nell a little bit confused - all but Sam, of course. Cassandra didn't clock his knowing glance though, looking down towards Callen who was simply smiling.

"Where's mine?" He asked, in faux indignation.

"I'm not an octopus you know!" She rolled her eyes at him and made her way back to the bar, where two drinks remained for her to pick up.

It was at this point, alone at the bar, where she took a moment to think. The day had taken the strangest turn. She had laughed. She had cried. She'd been angry, lost, happy, sad… every emotion had settled in her heart since her encounter with Callen that morning yet now, despite all of the revelations and reservations she had been faced with, she felt relaxed and truly at ease. It had been the whirlwind of emotions that had driven her to come along this evening to partake in Friday night drinking and, despite having wanted to sit alone with a bottle of tequila and drown herself in her sorrows, she had truly found solace in the fact that she was in the company of the NCIS team and listening to their cheerful dialogue. They reminded her so much of when she worked alongside Gibbs and his team.

She smiled at the memories she held dearly about the other members of NCIS that she had had the pleasure of working alongside.

"That's a beautiful smile" She heard a familiar voice say. "Not unlike the one I saw on the news"

It took no longer than a second for her smile to disappear as she processed the reason she was so familiar with that voice. Her body tensed and her eyes grew wide as she turned ever so slowly to gaze into the eyes of the man that had forced her into the open arms of NCIS in the first place.

"Oh - and now it's gone." He spoke in a childlike voice and moved a step closer to her, standing side by side, mimicking her stance. "You make a move and I will kill them" He spoke lightly, grabbing one of the beers that we just inches away from her trembling hands. "I have eyes and ears every where"

Cassandra couldn't help but look around in her sudden paranoid state, wondering which eyes and ears belonged to him.

"You will never know." He placed the beer back onto the bar "But I will _always_ know"

"What do you want?" She finally found her voice, yet remained petrified in his presence.

"To see you. You've been avoiding me." His tone continued to be childish. Cassandra felt as he turned to stand facing her. "And I thought i'd come and teach you some manners" She could tell by the way he was speaking that he was smiling ear to ear. She wanted more than anything to turn and face him, grab anything in her reach and attack - but she couldn't; to do so would make him real - and up until now, she had allowed some hope to reside in the back of her mind that he had died after taking the bullets.

"I'm surprised you took time out of your busy schedule to come out in public to see me" She spoke, with what little strength and conviction she could muster. It wasn't much, and he knew that, for he burst into laughter.

"As I said, I have eyes and ears everywhere, and I was in the neighbourhood -"

"Dropping off more heads?" Cassandra interrupted him, and he made an disapproving sound.

"See. You need some manners. Did mother not teach you anything before she blew her head to smithereens" He goaded, taking another sip of the beer. "And I wanted to be the one to do it"

Cassandra tried to find something to say, but was lost in the trembles that had overtaken her body.

"There there" He patted her on the back "I'll make it as painless as possible"

* * *

Callen watched as Cassandra left the table and moved over to allow Kensi to sit more comfortably in the booth.

"Cheers" She spoke, a goofy smile being sent his way as all on the table raised their glasses and he, who remained drinkless, sat with a look of sadness on his face. He opened his mouth to make a snarky comment but the expression on his partners face caught him off guard.

"Who's that she talking to?" Sam asked, before Callen could ask what he was staring at so intently.

Immediately, the demeanour of the group shifted. All turned to look at Cassandra, who was stood dead still at the bar, her back towards the group and a man, stood beside her with one hand on her shoulder, the other sinking into his pocket.

"He does seem familiar" Deek's spoke, becoming a meerkat once more.

"Oh god" Nell spoke nervously "Eric - is that -"

"Yes" Eric spoke quickly, panic in his voice "Thats Joshua Volkov"

Both Callen and Sam jumped up at the sound of his name, but were not quick enough to stop him from removing the syringe from his pocket and jabbing it into Cassandra's neck. He turned to look at them as he removed the needle and laughed, enjoying the look of pure horror that was painted on Callen's face.


	13. Chapter 13 - Sandry

**A/N: So... i sort of felt bad about the cliffhanger - (angel897... this is really for you! :D). I also had this chapter pretty much almost done and if i didn't get it up now... it'd eat me insiiiiiide!**

 **Thank-you to all the readers! Please enjoy yet another chapter**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

Callen awoke to the smell of bacon and what he could only assume was toast filling the air. He found himself smiling in his dazed, sleepy state as he opened his eyes. She wasn't next to him as he woke up this morning - nor any other morning for that matter. She'd probably got up for her routine morning run, already had her shower and was the reason behind the glorious smell of breakfast that morning.

"Hmmm" he groaned in contentment, lifting his hands and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He loved mornings now. He loved mornings with her.

"Wakey Wakey" he heard her kind voice say to him, followed by a light knock at the door. He used his hands to shade his eyes from the light that began to flood into the room, which impeded his ability to see her walk slowly towards him, placing her soft lips on his. "Good morning" she spoke in a voice just above a whisper.

"Good morning" he replied, smiling like a fool. He took the opportunity to take her by the waist and pull her towards him, returning his lips to hers. It took all of his mental strength not to grab her and pull her down onto the bed with him just to show her what a good morning really was. He didn't, of course. The moment was too good to escalate in such a manner - and they had to be at the office soon.

 _But I don't want this to end_

 _"_ hmmm" she moaned into his lips, moving her hands to caress his hair. He tried once more to maintain the romance and not succumb to the lust that was threatening to take over his mind and body - but it was to his sheer delight that it was she that made the next move, lifting herself atop the bed, placing one leg on either side of him.

He felt his body soar as he felt her hands move from his hair, down his neck, following his sides to his own waist, where her hands lingered over the boxers that was the only thing separating him from the soft skin of her fingertips. He could feel her smile as she slowly slipped her fingertips over the top of his underwear, caressing the sensitive skin below.

He stifled the moan by biting her lip, which caused her to laugh, lightly. Oh how he loved her laugh. He loved his mornings. He loved these moments. He loved… he loved… her?

Callen had never believed in love - let alone love at first sight, yet here he was, with this mysterious woman, feeling things he'd never felt before. He was not a stranger to jumping into bed with women after only a date or two - but this was different. This wasn't just a means to an end or a flittering faux relationship he had gotten himself into. No. This was _very_ different.

He didn't have to lie. He didn't have to hide. He could be himself, and the greatest thing was that she was still there, deepening the kiss, after knowing him for who he was. He knew she felt the same way. She had told him so the first time he had brought her home after the incident. That was the first night they had slept together, and he had felt something burn inside him. It had also been the first night that he could remember that he had slept the entire night and when he awoke in the morning to see she was not there - he was sure it had been a dream.

 _But it wasn't… she's here._

He was happy. Truly happy.

He could take it no longer. He lifted her up and turned her over, laying his entire weight upon her small body. She laughed once more at the sudden manoeuvre and it drove him absolutely wild.

"We're going to be late" She whispered, between kisses.

"To hell with it" He replied. He hadn't a care in the world what happened outside this room; outside this moment. No. Now it was him and her; and that was all that mattered.

"But he'll be angry with us" She tried to remain serious, but he could still feel her lips curled into a smile.

"I don't care" he stated, pulling at the hem of her t-shirt, breaking the kiss only to be able to pull it over her head. "I really couldn't give a damn about Granger" He muttered.

"I'm not talking about Granger" She spoke, her voice less playful.

He groaned in annoyance, wondering why she was ruining the moment. But he decided to humour her. "Then who?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows, laying his weight upon her, relishing the feeling of his skin against hers.

"Joshua" She spoke bluntly, her voice cold and callous.

Callen didn't have time to enquire as to what the hell she meant before he felt her chest rising and falling with absolute violence.

"Cassie?" his voice was panicked. He pushed himself up quickly and reached for the side light that was on the table beside the bed. "Cassie?!" He turned back to look at her to see her eyes were rolled back, revealing the whites of her eyes. She began to convulse and foam at the mouth. His eyes grew wide as the panic rushed through ever fibre of his being. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to get her to answer. He screamed her name over and over and over and over and…

* * *

Callen woke up in a cold sweat. His chest rose and fell with the same violence he had envisaged Cassandra's had. He raised his hands to his neck. His throat was hoarse - he was sure that he had actually been screaming her name.

 _It was just a dream_.

He allowed himself a moment to slow his breathing and cough the frog out of his throat before violently throwing the duvet cover off his naked body and placing his feet down on the cold bedroom floor.

 _It was only a fucking dream._

He buried his face in his hands and resisted the urge to scream.

It had been:

72 hours since he had watched Cassandra suffer the injection.

72 hours since he'd screamed 'STOP, FEDERAL AGENTS!' and caused utter chaos to ensue in the bar they had been drinking in.

72 hours since he's watched Joshua Volkov disappear into the crowd, taking full advantage the panicked crowd rushing around.

72 hours since he ran faster than he had in his life behind the man, in vain.

72 hours since his team had swiftly evacuated the establishment - leaving Cassandra alone inside.

72 hours since he'd tried to return to the bar but was dragged back and succumbed by Sam and Deeks.

72 hours since he awaited the quarantine unit to come.

72 hours since he realised that Cassandra was possibly infected by a similar agent that killed so many over the years.

72 hours since he watched as men in biohazard suits take her away.

72 hours since he had experienced the first of this repetitive nightmare.

72 hours since he had tried to understand what he was feeling. Was it real? Was it just the dream…?

72 hours…

Callen rubbed his face with such force he was surprised he didn't pull his skin off with the pressure. He felt utterly at a loss. Not only had he been just meters away from someone he was supposed in his charge, but he had let her down.

 _Over and over…_

He'd let her out of his sight and she was attacked. He had let the culprit escape. He had left her alone and now… he was wallowing in self-pity, having avoided all contact with the other members of his team since Sam had threatened to knock him out after he attempted to enter the building a third, forth and fifth time.

"Jesus" he whispered to himself, shuddering at the feeling of the cold morning air hitting the thick layer of sweat he'd accumulated throughout his restless night. "What am i doing?" he asked himself. A part of him had been asking that question since he got home three days ago. Why wasn't he out there hunting the bastard? Why wasn't he with his team, making sure _they_ were ok? Why wasn't he actively watching the others he was supposed to be protecting? Why? Why? Why?

"Snap out of it" He hit himself lightly on the cheeks with both hands, shaking his head as if to comply with his own self order. Whether it really worked or not, he didn't know, but he reached down for his boxers all the same, donned them and made his way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

At first, when he saw the figure stood in his kitchen, he had made himself believe it was her - but the woman before her was much shorter, much older and a lot less loving that the woman he been dreaming about.

 _And even then… it was just a dream…_

When his cognitive abilities returned, he automatically felt embarrassed - Not because he was stood in his underwear, nor because he looked liked he'd been dragged naked through a series of bushes by his feet; He was embarrassed because he was sure that the woman before him had seen what he had dreamt much like he still felt as if it had really happened.

 _But it didn't… it may never…_

"Mr. Callen" Hetty addressed him, like a stern headmistress would do a pupil she was tired of reprimanding.

"Hetty" He replied, trying hard to show how unaffected he was by this early morning intrusion, not even bothering to ask how she even managed to get in. "Coffee?" He asked, noticing that the percolator in the corner of his kitchen had already been brewed.

"I'm alright, thank-you" She politely replied.

"Ok then" Callen yawned and made his way towards the coffee, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the kitchen side, waiting to be told what ever words Hetty has burning on her tongue. "So, to what do I owe the honour?"

For the first time that Callen could remember, Hetty seemed lost for words. She moved over to the living area and plopped herself down on the sofa, silently beckoning him to follow.

 _This can't be good_

In the 30 seconds it took him to make his way to sit next to Hetty, all manner of atrocities came to mind. He opened his mouth to ask, prepared to list all of his ideas when she held up her hand, requesting his silence. Hetty moved her hands towards his cup of coffee, and slowly pried it from his hands. She ignored the confused look her was giving her and placed it down on the coffee table, lest they both be burned by the hot liquid.

"Mr. Callen, I am afraid…" She paused, once again, seemingly lost for words.

 _No. Please no._

* * *

 _Just hours before._

* * *

 _"_ Sugar water?" Hetty repeated in disbelief

"We have undertaken every test and scan that we have available to us, and we can find anything clinically wrong. It's my opinion that she was simply injected with something like to sugar water" The doctor repeated himself, his tone beginning to show the growing impatience that he was beginning to feel. Never again would he pick up his phone in the early hours of a Saturday morning; even if it was for a federal agency.

"Then how do you explain it?" Hetty's voice was getting irate and showing the same level of impatience "She hasn't eaten. She hasn't slept. She looks like a bloody zombie and you're telling me that there is nothing wrong?"

"Henrietta" Granger walked in just as Hetty's voice reached a higher octave and placed a hand on the small woman's shoulder and squeezed slightly in an attempt for her calm down. He knew that nothing would make this situation any easier to digest. "Gibbs is here"

She turned as if to snap at him, but the look of a broken man stopped her in her stead. It was Monday morning. He had chosen which side of the battle her was going to fight, and for once, she felt alleviated to see her pain reflected in someone else eyes.

"I'll go and meet him" She spoke, walking defiantly out of the consultation room.

"What's your prognosis then, doctor?" He asked, placing his hands into his pockets and straightening himself out. It was a subconscious exertion of authority that Cassandra had often told him he did - he'd never noticed it before, until now.

The doctor sighed and flipped over the paper and took in a deep breath before revealing his expert opinion.

"As I said to you wife-"

"She's not my wife" Granger tilted his head slightly and glared at the doctor, who quickly rectified his mistake.

"As I said to your colleague…" He paused, awaiting approval. Granger nodded "… The toxicology report gave no indications of pathogens or foreign bodies in her system. Scans show no signs of internal damage, no external trauma, except the small puncture wound on her neck-"

"In english?" Granger snapped

"There is nothing wrong with her." He summarised "At least not medically." he added, before Granger could ask the same question he had heard Hetty ask just moments before.

"If not medically, then what?" He asked, reading between the lines.

"If I had to take a guess, which it would be as I am not a psychiatrist, i would say that she is suffering a new-onset episode of psychosis"

"Psycho-what?"

"A psychotic break. In all essence, this can happen when reality becomes unbearable and the mind temporarily breaks with it" He shrugged, placing the clipboard back on the side. "I am going to recommend that she is taken to a psyche ward. She is not a danger as a carrier of any bio-chemical agents, but I cannot be sure of how much of a danger she is to herself or others in this state."

The doctor made an attempt to leave, but was stopped by Granger putting his hand out in front of him.

"I would suggest you hold off on that recommendation, doc" He warned. The young doctor looked slightly puzzled at Granger, as if trying to determine the extent to which he should heed such a warning. He said nothing, and walked around the extended arm, neither confirming or denying his plan of action.

When the doctor shut the door behind him, Granger looked through the glass of the consultation room to see the young agent sat in the corner of the biohazard containment room, head lulling on her knees, her hands spread out, spider like on the floor on each side of her. It was something akin to a horror movie - much like the one about the girl who came out a TV, he thought to himself, with the only difference being the colour of her hair.

He found himself sighing at the sight of the young agent, placing his hand in his pocket once more.

 _How could this have happened?_

"What did he say?" He didn't even hear the door open or hear Hetty make her way to his side.

"That she's had a psychotic break" Granger's voice was stoic to say the least as he revealed the prognosis.

"Well that would make sense…" Hetty paused "…but highly unlikely" Hetty's voice was less dismal. Granger put it down to the fact she was not feeling the weight of the guilt he was. He felt like he was drowning.

"Do you think so?" He asked rhetorically, his eyes fixated on the woman behind the glass "We've pushed her too much" He admitted, finally prying his eyes away from the girl.

"Yes. I'm afraid we have." Hetty agreed with a sigh and vacated the room once more, leaving Granger alone in the room, turning back to observe the young girl just in time to see a familiar figure enter the containment room.

* * *

The door opened and quickly closed within three seconds. She had counted. It had been the first time she had heard the door, make any movement since she was rushed in the containment room after being treated like a lab rat. There wasn't even a handle on the door. She was more like a prisoner.

She'd been subjected to hot and cold showers, ice baths and sauna-like treatments; to kill any externally exposed pathogens. This was followed by the draining of, what felt like, half of her blood before a plethora of swabs were stuck in her mouth. She was prodded and poked and spun around in all directions, no-one a least bit concerned of the fact that she was a stark naked woman in a room full of scientists who were treating her like she was some animal they had the liberty to dissect.

They robed her in a hospital gowned and pushed her into the containment room, locking the door and left her their for observation.

At no point was her psychological state taking into consideration. At no point was she asked how she was feeling; medically or emotionally. Not once.

 _Not fucking once_

She grew more and more angry as she remained alone. Angry that they were treating her like this. Angry that Joshua had done this to her. Angry that she hadn't reacted. Angry that she had fallen into the trap. Angry at Callen and his team for making it so easy to let her guard down. Angry at Elijah for showing up and for subsequently dying. Angry at Leon for bringing her back into the fold. Angry at Katya for being so vulnerable. Angry at Hetty for making her join her team in the first place. Angry at herself for getting herself into this whole mess. Angry at Granger for killing her father. Angry at her mother for killing herself…

As she went through the cycle over and over she realised one thing. There was only one individual she _wasn't_ angry with.

The sound of footsteps walked the 14 feet from the door and stopped dead before her. There were two reasons to explain how she knew the identity of the person that was looking down at her.

His cologne

No one else would dare to

 _Or cared too…_

Cassandra heard the clicking of his aged knees as he crouched before her. It was the only sound that resonated in the silence, other than their steady breathing. She was too tired to begin the conversation and too sure she would cry if she did.

"Here we are again" His soft voice caused the hairs to stand on edge. It had been too long since they had spoken. They both knew that the nature of her assignment meant that they could go months or even years without speaking; but every time they came back together, it was as if not a day had passed. He shifted his weight to sit next to her, his back against the wall, his legs stretched out before him.

"Yeah" she whispered, her lulling head turning slightly so she could see him with one eye.

He smiled at her and placed his arm around her and pulled her into an embrace. "What am I going to do with you?" He mused, wrapping his other arm around her.

Cassandra had no words. She simply let the tears fall as they sat there in silence.

* * *

Gibbs allowed the silence to continue for a short while, but she knew that he would have to break it soon enough. Much like she had done in her first conversation with Nate upon her return, she did not wait for the silence to be broken - she shattered it herself.

"Why are you here?" She asked, turning her head away from the glass that was used to observe her. She was sure that she couldn't see anyone watching - but she turned her head just in case. She didn't want anyone to clock their conversation.

"I had planned to come anyway with Leon." Gibbs replied, noticing her movement. He nodded towards her, to let her know he agreed that they should err on the site of caution. For that reason, their conversation continued in Russian. "I wanted to see how you were and…" He paused pondering the best way to say it. Rarely did Leroy Jethro Gibbs find it difficult to speak his mind - but there was always going to a situation that represented the minority and this was it.

"And?" She pushed.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you" He began "And Abby ran the tests that you asked for" He paused to catch her eye, unaware of what the revelation would do to her. "Katya is not your biological sister"

The silence gave them both the opportunity to hear chatter from outside the room. From what they could gather, the doctor had not heeded Grangers warning and had informed his team that Cassandra should be transferred immediately to a psychiatric unit for further observation.

Gibbs felt Cassandra take a deep breath before raising herself to sit with her back against the wall. Her face was tired with streaks down her cheeks from when she had cried. Her eyes glazed over and her entire demeanour was off.

"As I expected" she spoke, a little more conviction in her voice. She'd had more than enough time to think about things, stuck in the room and _that_ was the only conclusion that made sense. "I'm assuming that the reason you are sat with me is because i'm not going to suffer the same fate as Katya then?" She continued, changing the subject.

Gibbs watched her with curiosity before answering her rhetorical question "No. Hetty says the Doctor thinks you were injected with sugar water"

Cassandra let out a weak laugh out of relief. It was just some innocuous substance. She raised her hands to her face and wiped under her eyes with her index fingers, resting them on her temples and applied pressure. She was getting a headache. "He just wanted to make a point" Gibbs' silence suggested he agreed with her statement. Joshua was still playing some twisted game and while they played to 'protect the queen', Joshua had checked them with the king!

"Then we need to prove another" He spoke, placing his hands atop his knees. He noticed in his peripheral vision the doctors and Granger enter the observation room once more. Although he could not hear them, Grangers expressions suggested they were still arguing about Cassandra's imminent fate.

"What's that?" She asked. "I'm sick of trying to prove a point and handing him the fricking trophy…" She glanced towards the glass out of the corner of her eye, a group of Doctors were now gathered in the room, looking at her with interest. "Shit" she muttered, under her breath. She had to get out of here as soon as possible. Cassandra tilted her head to the side and winced at the pain she felt by doing so. The awkward position she had maintained her head in for the past 2 days had taken a toll on her neck muscles.

Both watched as Hetty joined the gentlemen in observation room, distracting them from what was about to occur. This was immediately followed by a light knock on the door.

"Ok. We need to go" He spoke, jumping up, grabbing her by the arms and lifting her easily to her feet. It was the first time that he had looked upon her in a year and all he could think was that she had seen better days; but he didn't have time to reprimand her on her lack of self maintenance.

"What do you mean we need to go?" Cassandra asked, jumping up just as fast.

"I mean, I'm getting you out of here. Now." Gibbs grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards the door, which opened to reveal a young blonde agent with a back pack on her shoulder and a cap covering her eyes.

"What? How? Wh-"

"Do you trust me?" Gibbs interrupted her, pulling her out of the room.

"Of course!"

"Then stop moving your tongue and move your feet"

* * *

The drive to her next destination had been in utmost silence. The only sound that had been heard except the sound of her own breathing and that of the window being rolled down and her phone being thrown out of the window.

She was off the grid. That was it.

Gibbs had provided the most perfect escape route. He'd brought with him a member of his team, a so called Elenor Bishop. His plan was for them to literally switch clothing and take Bishop back into the observation room to continue the ruse of a blonde patient being in the room, just long enough for Cassandra to get away. He'd thrown Cassandra she bag Bishop had brought with her and the keys to the car she was currently driving before telling her to take the fire exit down the Hall as Bishop had disabled the alarm. His only piece of advice for her onward journey, before he returned to the observation room: ' _Just do what you have to do_ '

She would take his advice. To the letter.

She currently sat, awaiting the arrival of her unexpected host, silencer pistol in her left hand and a Utopia 'Melodia' crystal whiskey tumbler in the other. She sipped the liquid courage as she evaluated the situation.

Katya was not her sister. Joshua had her killed because of this. Elijah did the deed and he also tried to kill her. It was obvious that Joshua didn't actually want Cassandra dead so, Elijah was either working rogue or paid by someone else to kill her, or attempt to that is. Anyone would pay to get rid of her - she'd done terrible things, and the fact that she shared blood with Joshua was only one of those.

Cassandra took another sip of the liquid as she tried to make sense of all of this.

Their mother must have had an affair; so, was Joshua doing all of this because of _that?_ He always said that he didn't kill their mother (as she killed herself) but he never denied the fact that he had something to do with it. Did he find out about the affair? He must have - but when? When they were little? Was that the reason their mother committed suicide? Even if all of this was true, then why has it turned Joshua into such a violent soul? Had their mother not had an affair, would any of this even happened?

Cassandra closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking. All of these questions were just giving her a worse headache. She was extremely lucky. She would soon be too distracted to continue to think; she saw the lights shine through her eyelids.

 _He's here._

"What the hell?!" She heard the man scream, in Russian. She smiled as she imagined the look on his face when he saw the bloodied bodies of his four guards piled on his front porch. "Sandry" she heard him mutter, as he scuffed his feet along the path way and stormed into the house.

Cassandra readied herself for the encounter, raising the pistol towards the archway he'd use to enter the living area. She rested the tumbler on the arm of the chair in which she sat and turned slightly to see the man storm in, slamming the front door behind him.

"Sandry! What is the meaning of -" He didn't immediately notice to gun, but when he did, his voice caught in his throat. "Sandry? What are you doing?"

"Sit" She ordered. She was finally going to get some answers. "Now!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, but did as he was told, sitting opposite her on the large victorian filigree embroidered sofa.

"Why are you here?" He asked in a much calmer voice, placing one leg over the other. If he felt any fear, he did not show it.

"Katya" She whispered. His previously calm demeanour suddenly changed and with that she already had her answer.

Cassandra readjusted herself to a more comfortable position before delving into the long monologue she had rehearsed internally in the car.

"When I was younger, I remember playing a lot with Anna" She began, her hand tight on the gun. "You would come over all the time. You were like family to me." She smiled at the memories "I remember when Katya was born, we all went to the christening and it was so beautiful. Father didn't turn up. He wasn't religious, but mother was so - you offered to accompany us." She paused to check that he was paying attention. He was.

"So, when mother died, and you didn't even call, that really hurt." She was no longer smiling, feeling the rage burn beneath her skin. But she couldn't let it loose yet - She had much more to say. "I always questioned what we had done wrong. You took away my friend and you left us alone with that monster" She spat the last word. It was the most tame way of describing her father. She took in a deep breath, before resuming her monologue

"Years later, I came to America. Joshua told me to find you, said you would help me get revenge on those who had destroyed our family. I refused to see you again, but he pleaded that I did so. I complied, like a good little girl. I didn't understand why he was so adamant for me to reconnect with you until now." She raised the gun towards him before continuing.

"You are Katya's father, are you not?!" Although she didn't raise her voice, the question was spoken with such force, she was sure he jumped in his seat.

"Sandry, I-" He stuttered

"Answer the question, Kolcheck, or i will kill you now!" His eyes fixated on the gun. He had seen her work and new that she was serious.

He took just a moment too long and saw that she began to pull the trigger "Yes! Yes! GOD! I am her father!"

She already knew. She just needed to hear the words. What followed was something comparable to an interrogation. Quick questions with immediate response. He feared for his life, and he was right to do so.

"Joshua found out, correct?"

"Yes"

"Why did she kill herself?"

"He told your father. He made her life hell and she could take no more"

"And you didn't care!"

"No! No! I loved her!"

And that's when it clicked...

"So you wanted revenge" It was a statement. Not a question. Cassandra's previous onslaught slowed down at this new line of questioning. "Was it you? Was it you who told NCIS to get him?"

"Your father was a terrible man -"

"You were all terrible men!" She spat, a new wave of anger

"The carers contacted me. They were afraid he'd hurt you -"

"You played the Americans against our family because you _cared?_ LIAR!" She screamed this time, jumping from her seat "And Katya? She was your DAUGHTER!" Cassandra grabbed the tumbler and threw it across the room. "You told him where she was! You sold her out!"

"He would have killed Anna!" He spoke, his pleading that she understood. She didn't.

"So you chose one daughter over another?" Her voice was filled to the brim with complete and utter disbelief. "So, let's summarise this, shall we" Cassandra stood over him, no-longer controlling the rage. "Your affair with my mother made her kill herself. You were so consumed with guilt that you made a call and got my father killed. Then, you and your ' _kind_ ' created a monster to whom you gave the location of your own daughter which resulted in her death" She paused, and raised the gun to his head "Did i leave anything out?" she spat.

"P-p-please. I didn't know -"

"You destroyed my family. It's all your fault." She spoke calmly, lowering the gun momentarily "Good-bye"

And without another word she raised the gun and shot Arkady pointblank between the eyes.

She finally understood everything, and once more she had been driven to do exactly what Joshua asked her to do. 'Go back to the beginning' 'Kill fathers killer'... It all made perfect sense.

* * *

It's easy for any agent to walk without being seen, but it takes a very specific agent to be seen, but to make them think you don't want to be seen, especially when they know that you can hide in plain sight. Cassandra stood at the end of the road, contemplating this. She sighed, and realised that it was time for her to do what she did best.

 _Come and get me_


	14. Chapter 14 - Volkov

**AN: So it's 2pm and i just had to work to get this out... the excitement might be my own as i picture this chapter in my head.. but that's ok haha!**

 **i'd like to thank: angel897, as always for your lovely review, and callenXprinces for yours. Welcome to the story :D. A special thanks to Elyon Cedar, callenXprincess and TearsIMustConcel for following this story and callenXprincess, cutelittlekitten18, Dramamama5, ed24555 and Cavill for adding this story to your favs.**

 **It means so much to me that you are still with me on this journey. I hope you continue to enjoy this story :D**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

Hetty had made it clear to Callen that what was soon to happen would be the turning point of this entire situation. Although Cassandra's actions still remained known by just a handful, both Leon and Granger would be obliged to inform SecNav of the situation within the next few hours, lest they wanted to be subject to yet another investigation. Cassandra had officially turned rogue and committed what seemed to be murder, a fact Hetty knew would both delight and horrify the current SecNav. Oh how she despised Sarah Porter.

Lost in thought, she left Callen's home almost immediately after dropping the proverbial bombshell. She knew that Callen had formed an unorthodox bond with the Russian gentleman and although he may not suffer as much now he knew more about his past, she was sure that he would still ache for Kolcheck's death.

Hetty didn't have time to humour Callen's questions. She had a few things to set in order before pushing the last piece into place and leaving herself open for the taking.

 _The Queens Gambit - again_.

It was her plan. Her responsibility. Her fault. And she didn't care one bit about accepting her fate. It was about time too, she thought sardonically, as she pulled the front door closed behind her, ensuring she had her handbag on her person, before making her way to the end of the road where, unsurprising to her, a black, unmarked car awaited her arrival.

As she stepped towards her own parked car, the driver exited the vehicle and simple stared at her with tired eyes.

"Are you following me?" Hetty asked, delving into her purse to find her car keys

"No" Granger responded, shutting his door and stepping towards her

"Escort? Protection Detail?" Her questions were rhetorical, and Granger was oh too familiar with her tone.

"You wouldn't accept it even if you needed it; which you don't" He added, placing his hands in his pockets.

"Then what is it?" She clasped her small hands around the key fob and pulled it out of her bag.

"We have a problem" He stated

"We always do" She clicked her car door open and made her way towards her vehicle. She didn't have time for further conversation. She'd lost enough time already with Callen. Cassandra was out there, alone, under extreme duress and Hetty wasn't sure what her next move was. She had to be found. Now.

Owen watched as she put the key in the ignition and sighed before beginning this godawful conversation. "It's about Cassandra"

He knew this was the quickest way to get her to stop and listen - and she did. Hetty didn't turn the key, but remained still in the vehicle, awaiting the news that was to follow.

"Gibbs has just informed me that the Doctor we saw was on Volkov's payroll"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the whole story about sugar water and pschotic what ever it was, was a farse."

Hetty slowly stepped out of the car, shutting the door lightly behind her and stood directly in front of the assistant director. She had known the moment that she saw Cassandra in the isolation chamber that something was wrong. Not only had she seen a change in her physical health, but she had noticed that no doctor entered without taking the necessary precautions. Had it really been such an innocuous substance, the doctors would have moved her onto a generic ward. It would have been cheaper.

But Hetty had made herself believe that she was probably ok; That she hadn't put her in harms way again; That Joshua hadn't won the tug of war she and he had been playing for 15 years. She had made herself believe…

 _What a fool_

"Bishop helped the looney toons gain access to her patient records. They've been copied"

"And?" Hetty spoke, impatiently

Owen paused. He didn't want to be the one to bring this news, but it was his job. "And it doesn't look good Henrietta" He admitted, sighing.

"How much time does she have?"

"There's no way of knowing" He shifted awkwardly on the spot. Neither Hetty or himself could be at all surprised by this revelation. It was part of their job and they had always known Wyatt would fall sooner rather than later. To be honest, he was surprised he hadn't already been to her funeral. But the time was near. It was imminent. And there was nothing they could do

"I just hope you've made your peace with her" With that comment, he turned and got into his car, driving away to leave Hetty alone and pensive on the side walk, contemplating the short and anything but sweet, conversation she had just partaken in. Henrrietta Lang had done anything but make her peace with Cassandra and she'd be damned if the girl died before she was able to.

"I'm going to find you" She muttered to herself as she followed suit, jumping into her own vehicle and making her way to the OSP centre to do just that.

* * *

"Arkady Kolcheck, Abarron Cohen, Adrik Nikolaev, Alik Aleksandrov…" As Nell continued to put a name to the corpses that were pictured on the screen, Callen felt a pit form in his stomach. He had read about her training, he had read redacted reports about her abilities and previous operations, he'd even interrogated Nate to try and grasp any idea of what they were facing when Cassandra Wyatt came on the scene; but none of that could have prepared him for what he was seeing.

"Boris Nikolaev, Jared Dantzler, Mohammed Amari, Habib Khayyat…"

"Ok, I think we get the picture Miss Jones" Granger spoke, holding his hand up to the intelligence analyst. It seemed that Callen wasn't the only one that was beginning to feel slightly ill at the sight of the aftermath of Cassandra's continuing rampage."Just give me a number"

"20" Nell affirmed, pushing the remaining photos onto the screen, creating a most macabre collage. "All known or suspected associates with Volkov and, or, KGB sympathisers, except…" She deployed, what Callen hoped was the last photo on the screen. "Dr. Maeve Callaghan, a Bio-analyst that worked for the same pharmaceutical company that developed Spiral"

"The bio-weapon the IRA were interested in?" Sam enquired

"The very same" Nell confirmed. Callen noticed her glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He remembered the day he came in contact with the bio-agent like it was yesterday. He'd always believed that he was prepared to die but when it seemed to imminent, he hadn't been so sure. He burrowed his eyebrows at the collage and pooled his entire consciousness to make sense of the whole thing. He came up with nothing.

It had been 9 days since Hetty had raised her hands towards his cup of coffee, and slowly pried it from his hands as they sat on his sofa that morning. She had ignored the confused look he was giving her as she placed it down on the coffee table. He had prepared himself for the worst - so much so that he hadn't even began to prepare himself for what she was about to say…

* * *

"Mr. Callen, I am afraid…" She paused, once again, seemingly lost for words. "I'm afraid Arkady is dead"

"What?" Callen's question was more out of surprise that anything else. "How?"

He didn't really need to ask the question. Had this incident not had anything to do with their current plight, he was sure that Hetty wouldn't have necessarily made the effort to come to his house to deliver the news. Arkady was an informant, a pain in the ass and, on some levels, a friend; and even though news of his death would have otherwise been shocking and, on some other levels, sad, he knew that these were not the emotions he was supposed to be taking away from this conversation.

"Cassandra shot him, point blank." Hetty stated

"I thought that she was in quarantine" Callen's voice featured a slight tone of annoyance. Had they not been watching out for her?

"Yes, well, she escaped" Hetty admitted

"How can you be sure?"

"Go to ops and you can see for yourself"

Callen took her up on that offer. He drove immediately to Ops, where only a few bodies were stood, seemingly awaiting his arrival. Leon greeted him with a dismal nod of the head while Nell and Eric stood in silence, glancing at the floor. On the other side of the room stood the man that had saved his life on more than one occasion.

"Gibbs?"

Gibbs was the only one to move, making his way across the room to formally greet the agent. He extended his hand and pulled him into a hug. "Great to see you Callen"

"What's going on?" He wasn't trying to be rude, but this was not the time for chit chat.

No-one spoke for about a minute, giving Callen enough time to become even more frustrated, repeating the question with much more force.

"Miss Jones?" Hetty, followed almost immediately by Granger, entered ops and beckoned the young intelligence analyst to lock down OPS and answer his question in the form of video footage.

All stood in silence as they watched the scene unfold. A car was seen parking outside of the Kolcheck residences and a figure stepping out of the car. Had the identity of the figure not already been established, Callen wouldn't have immediately stated it was Cassandra. She looked much more frail than usual - and it had only been 3 days since they had seen each other.

She walked up the path, met by one, then two, then four of Kolchecks men, who each, in turn, had their throats slit by an invisible blade. Callen thought that it must be hidden up her sleeve as he hands didn't seem to be handling such an instrument as she grabbed each of the bodies and piled them onto the front porch. She wanted to make a scene, and that she did.

The timestamp of the video skipped forward 10 minutes.

Kolcheck was visibly fuming as he too arrived, which had given Cassandra more than enough time to pour herself a drink and sit, awaiting his arrival. It was in this moment that Callen observed the woman intently. She was deeply lost in thought. She looked troubled, but only until he watched her head turn towards to archway.

The interactions between the two were heated, but he was unable to gather what they were saying. Cassandra had her back to the camera, an act that he believed was intentional. She elegantly jumped to her feet, held the gun towards him and the interrogation continued for just a minute longer before she seemed defeated, lowering the gun slightly. Had he not already been told the outcome of this interaction, he might have been able to fool himself into believing that she would just walk away. She didn't.

The movement was so quick, he also didn't see what she had done, confirmed only by the flash of light and Kolchecks body drooping on the sofa with a small trickle of blood apparent on his forehead.

At first, Callen was sceptical when observing the pair in HD. It felt almost too real, however, when Cassandra finally turned around to stare dead at the camera, he changed his mind. It was as if she was staring right at him. She tilted her head and her lips moved ever so slightly before she smiled weakly and turned to make her way out of the building.

"What did she say?" Callen asked, quickly, as her image was paused by Nell.

"No Plan B. Plan C." Gibbs replied immediately, unfazed by the entire situation. He was, of course, the only one. Hetty was finally appearing her age. Leon and Granger exchanged looks of loss and guilt. Eric and Nell remained with their eyes fixated to the floor while Callen felt that he was the personification of all of their emotions.

He felt old and tired and lost and guilty and angry and…

"What's Plan C?" Gibbs asked, breaking the silence in the only way he could. No-one answered. "Or Plan B?" All eyes turned to Hetty who took a deep breath before taking one step forward, reenacting, what could only be described as something akin to a Drama Improv exercise.

"I asked that she try and infiltrate the fold, once more"

"Why would she want to do that?" Gibbs asked with sheer incredulity

"Because Joshua is a big child. When he is fixated on something, he will stop at nothing to get it. I thought that if he finally got her back, he'd find another obsession and give us the opportunity to finish him once in for all" Hetty looked utterly defeated. Callen could tell that what she _thought_ was different from what was _actually happening._ It was rare to see her making such erroneous decisions, but when she did - the world burned.

"And how was she supposed to do that? I think the bullets made it clear she was against him" Gibbs. Pure Gibbs. Able to speak the words people didn't dare think. It was a weak plan - "Did you even think this through?"

"Yes." Hetty Responded, lacing her fingers behind her back.

"What are you not telling us, Henrietta" Leon asked. Callen watched as Granger and Hetty exchanged knowing looks. He was almost sure they had both shaken their head at each other.

"Joshua would forgive, but not forget." She turned from Granger and looked towards Callen, but drew her eyes away from him immediately. "She knew the danger…"

* * *

Callen shook off the thoughts of how this newest period of crazy had begun, and focused on the collage once more. Cassandra's 'Plan C' seemed to be picking off all of those who have acted for her brother - but the Bio-analyst was not on the watch list.

"Is there anything to suggest she was part of his network?" Callen asked

"Not directly but -" The collage disappeared and was replaced by three crime scene photos and three ID cards. "These photos are from an investigation the FBI worked on last year. The three individuals worked for the IRA. They became the main focus of the investigation when evidence showed that they had successfully stolen a bio-weapon from the states…"

"This sounds strangely familiar" Sam's tone was pessimistic

"Are you suggesting the Volkov had something to do with the Spiral fiasco?" Callen jumped in at this point.

"We can't be sure, but the fact that Volkov is widely known because of his fixation, development and deployment of bio-weapons, it doesn't seem to far left field" Nell speculated

"And what about these guys?" Callen asked

"Well, these guys were killed by some unknown toxin." Nell paused a moment to add four sets of Tox screen results "Comparing the results of these three to the one Leon provided from a case in Virginia a couple of years ago -" Callen burrowed his eyebrows. They didn't know it was Cassandra's sister? "-and the results are almost perfect match"

"They were killed by the same virus?" Sam asked

"Almost" Eric responded

"Can we get to the point?" Granger asked, impatiently.

"It seems the virus has been modified" Eric answered quickly

"Ok ok ok, so let me get this straight" Deeks began "The same company that made Spiral made another bioweapon that Volkov's IRA minions stole and then he played Frankenstein and changed it and killed his minions?" Deeks' face showed disbelief - but it was true.

"Probably to test it" Sam added, putting his hands deep into his pocket. Yes. He was extremely pessimistic.

"That's what it looks like" Nell and Eric looked nervous. They looked towards each other and then to the floor.

"What?" Callen asked suspiciously. He'd been watching them closely throughout the conversation and felt they were hiding something.

The pair looked towards to Hetty who stepped forward.

"Miss Jones, if you would please add the fifth Tox screen" With the tap of a button a fifth set of results was in the centre of the screen. There was not a great difference between the fifth and the previous four - except one thing. The patients name was on the chart.

"Is that…?" Kensi began, raising her hands to her face

"Yes Miss Blye. Miss Wyatt was infected with this virus 9 days ago when Joshua injected her with it"

Silence. Deafening silence. Emotions began to run wild: fear, sadness, disbelief, worry and...

"How long have you known this?" Callen's voice was dangerous. He was past anger. He was furious.

"About a week" Granger didn't even look at him when he responded.

"And you didn't think to TELL us?!" His tone of voice was becoming more hysteric.

"Umm guys?" Eric tried to interrupt

"We don't have to tell you everything Agent Callen" Granger now turned towards the agent, something Callen took as a direct challenge.

"Hey, guys!" Nell also tried to interrupt.

"How many people have to DIE before you realise that it's because You keep them in the dark!?" Callen stepped towards him. He was ready to take him on.

"HEY!" Eric whistled and the room fell silent "This just came in"

The screen turned dark and suddenly a new window appeared. It was a video. It began with a hand covering the lens. The hand fell away to reveal Cassandra's sullen face. Callen's heart skipped a beat as he saw her swollen eyes and sickly face. He stepped away from Granger and became completely engrossed with the video.

Deep intakes of breath followed the sight of her small smile as she sat back to speak.

"Things aren't always what they seem" She whispered, placing a finger over her lips. Callen stepped forward looking straight into her eyes. Those were not the eyes of a killer. They were the eyes of someone in terrible danger. He looked around her figure to find any key to know where she was. She was in a house, that's all he could tell before the sound of a car began to resonate throughout the recording.

Seconds later, the room was invaded by various figures, dressed in black with balaclavas. Cassandra's eyes grew wide with surprise as she turned just in time to dodge the first attempt to grab her.

 _Oh my god..._

The members of the NCIS OSP watch in complete horror as they watched her fight against 5 individuals. There was a moment he thought that she would win, but that moment disappeared as soon as it came. She was grabbed from behind. She kicked out, but her legs were grabbed by two of the others. Callen cringed as he watched her body jolt within their arms, but even more so when he watched one of the remaining attackers place a cloth over her mouth. Probably laced with Chloroform, Callen thought, as her body relaxed and she was heaved over the shoulder of one, the remaining four began trashing the place. The camera remained undiscovered until right at the end, where one of the four picked it up from where is had been placed. The man in black removed his mask to reveal his identity to the camera

"Tetrodotoxin" was the only word he spoke before shutting the camera off.

There was white noise and then the screen turned black.

"Nate?" Nell whispered under her breath

"What the hell is going on!?" Deek's question was spot on.

"More secrets?" Callen spat. His anger grew with mixture of despair, frustration and impotence.

"I will explain to you all of my decisions when we get both Wyatt and Dr. Getz out of their current situation" Granger informed the agents. But none of them were buying it - especially not Callen.

"No you will explain now!" Callen demanded "What is Nate's current mission? Why is he with the guys that have kidnapped her?"

"Mr. Getz was asked to gather information on a group of home grown terrorists that had been noted to have an increased interest in Volkov and his activities." Hetty began, ignoring the latest death stare standoff between the two men. "Nate's mission was to simply gather information on this rogue group."

"What do they want?" Sam asked, also ignoring the men besides him

"To impress, I believe" Hetty responded "Nate found information to suggest that they had provided the Doctor that led to the decapitation of three Czech agents and Elijah Mizrahi. Naturally, we asked that he gather more information and, well…"

"Well…?" Deeks repeated

"More information" She gestured towards the screen.

Did she really think that this constituted as 'more information'. Callen almost flipped. Everyone else seemed to be digesting the information as best they can, but it was harder than any of them could have even imagined.

"So what's this about Tetrodotoxin?" Deeks asked, finding the silence awkward.

"Tetrodotoxin is a potent neurotoxin. Its name derives from Tetraodontiformes, an order that includes pufferfish, porcupinefish, ocean sunfish, and triggerfish" …" Nell brought up information on to the screen for all to read "It can be fatal. The victim, although completely paralyzsd, may be conscious and in some cases completely lucid until shortly before death, which generally occurs within 4 to 6 hours. However, some victims enter a coma." Nell turned towards the group, awaiting some sort of explanation of why this was relevant

"Maybe they're not dead" Kensi mused

"Maybe who not what?" Deek's asked

"She said that things aren't always what they seem" Kensi's voice held a little more conviction

"Are you suggesting she's used TTX on all of them and they're not really dead?" Deeks questioned her sanity

"Is it really that unbelievable to you?" She asked

"No. Well yes. She's a trained killer…"

"… who is dying" Callen finally spoke up, breaking his eyes away from Granger "We don't have time to debate whether they are dead or not right now - We'll leave that up to the medical examiner to decide." He turned to leave "Eric, find out where that was recorded and send the location to my phone"

"Where are you going, Agent Callen?" Granger shouted after him, but he did not respond. Cassandra was in grave danger and the clock was literally ticking.

He was going to find her and he was going to put an end to Operation Primrose once in for all.

Joshua Volkov would not walk away alive this time.

* * *

The smell of disinfectant made her want to gag - but she couldn't.

The sound of indistinct chatter around her made her want to move her head to better hear them - but she couldn't.

The cold touch of a hand on her arm made her want to pull her arm away - but she couldn't.

She felt the pinch of a needle piercing her skin and tape being put around what she assumed was a tube. She tried to move her head once more and open her eyes to see what was going on, but she couldn't do either. She was completely helpless and it made her extremely nervous.

Cassandra Wyatt thought about how she had ended up in this situation - what ever this situation was.

She'd pulled in all the favours possible with Ivanka Barbulescu and her minions at the salon to find all of the individuals on her personal hit list. Strangely enough, most of those who had recruited Joshua, back in the day, had made the move to Los Angeles, along with Arkady. It had made locating them so much simpler and quicker than if she had had to travel around the world.

But find them she did and they sang like little birds. She wanted to know everything they had done. Everything they had said. Where the others were. What their reason for being in America was. Everything and anything that could lead her to her brother. If they didn't provide any useful information, she just moved on to the next - not before sticking them with a needle much like she had suffered days before.

 _Joshua_

Only a couple of days she began to feel a certain about of side effects: the injection side was swollen. She was sure she had a mild fever, and she had a spitting headache, muscle and joint pain and was extremely tired. She put it down simply to the fact she was miss-treated in the hospital and everything that was going on was bound to take its toll on her and her health - but it didn't stop her.

She needed answers.

But no-one had them.

Apparently Joshua had abandoned them years ago. They all seemed annoyed with him having taken so much power and money from them that they were after him just like everyone else was. Maybe things would catch up on him, she thought sardonically, as she felt the needle being ripped out of her arm, and another being pushed in just a centimetre to the left.

They were taking blood.

This caused a small amount of panic to settle in. Where was she? What were they doing to her! What was going on!

"Calm down, _Detka_ " She heard a voice say in the distance. She instantly tensed as she realised that what ever was going on or wherever she was, _he_ was there. Cassandra invested all of her strength into trying to open her eyes - which began to flutter. "That's it. Wake up sleeping beauty" Her effort paid off and she opened her eyes to a bright, white light. "It will take a while for your eyes to adjust" The voice continued to speak.

He was right. After a few minutes, she began to be able to make out individual figures in the room. After a few more, she was finally able to see in more detail - and she was utterly shocked.

"Do you like it?" Joshua asked, realising that she was fully able to see her surroundings.

Still able to move her head, Cassandra could rely only on the extent of her peripheral vision, but it was enough. She was in, what she could only describe, as a laboratory. There were chemicals, instruments and machines lining the room within which men in lab coats were bustling around. Everything looked perfectly sterile and professionally fitted, even the chair that she was occupying Much like a dentists chair, she was leant backwards almost to a laying position. She glanced down to see a man monitoring her vital signs as another pulled the second needle from her arm and grab the blood bag that had just been filled.

"It's wonderful what a little money does these days" He continued talking, as if she had responded "It's to most up to date technology - so even a hacker like yourself can't mess with it" He placed a hand on her shoulder and leant over her and smiled "How are you feeling? Dazed, I can imagine…" Cassandra wasn't sure why he was talking to himself, but she ignored him as she tried to move. "Oh, you won't be able to do that. Apart from the physical restraints -" He pulled on the straps that were over her body "I gave you a little something to make you more co-operative" He smiled down at her once more.

She tried once more to move her legs, her arms, her head - anything… but nothing worked. What the hell was going on?!

"You're probably wondering why you are here and what my master plan is" He spoke in such a sing song voice. "Well, I'm going to tell you."

He disappeared from her sight and she couldn't follow him. The sound of a chair being dragged towards her indicated he was planning to make himself more comfortable as he revealed his master plan. She didn't care for it. She just wanted to get out.

"There we go - oh" He pulled her head to the side so she could see him as he sat down "That's better, isn't it"

She couldn't disagree more. Seeing his face light up as he thought about his master plan made her sick. This had been the longest that they had been in a room together for more than a year and this certainly wasn't how she had expected their re-encounter to be.

"Well, firstly, I'd like to say thank-you." He paused and tilted his head. He was sickeningly sincere "5 bullets. Damn. It was cruel of you all to try and kill me, _again_ , Cassandra, but I am grateful to you. My time away gave me time to think while I was healing." He began to tuck the loose hairs behind her ear "I had time to develop and test this beautiful combination and it has a 100% success rate."

If she could have, she could have burrowed her eyebrows and asked what the hell he was talking about - but she couldn't. She simple lay there, staring at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I have a newly modified serum that is going to help me take over the world. And you are going to help me" " His grin was so big it almost grew out of the constraints of his face. He really believed this. How you ask? Well, let me tell you" He coughed to clear his throat and made himself comfortable on the stool he was perched upon.

"I've tested this serum and it kills the victims within minutes. It's not like ebola that spreads - no this is hit and kill. It's beautiful" He spoke in a really excited tone, ignoring the bustling of the workers around him. Cassandra wondered why the hell they were not reacting to the words he was speaking - but they were probably paid off or worse… "So I thought 'why not make an aerosol equivalent', so I did and well - let's say there are a few less people in the world right now" He laughed at his poor joke. She was utterly disgusted. More innocent people were being killed for his personal gain "So…" he continued "But then I thought 'if I kill everyone, who's going to pay me?' -" He cupped his chin in a faux pensive state "The answer was NO-ONE!" He screamed, causing one of the lab techs to jump a mile - but Joshua didn't even notice. He just continued.

"Do you know the only thing that pays more than bio-weapons?" He asked rhetorically "The Cure" He revealed. "And do you know how we make vaccines? My sweet little hacker?!" He stood up now, and moved her head to make sure she was paying attention. "If you had studied biology like I suggested instead of computer science, you'd know - but I will enlighten you" He seemed to be preparing himself for the upcoming explanation. Cassandra was still unsure what any of this had to do with her - but she was sure it would soon become apparent.

"So in this case, I took a broken pathogen and I modified it. Yes, I genetically modified it so that I could create a vaccine that was specific to a certain genome that was naturally immune. Can you guess who that was?!" He stepped over her "Me. Yes. Me, and you of course - we are naturally immune to this pathogen, or at least we are now because I made it so" Cassandra noticed that he seemed overly proud of his accomplishment and was beginning to see the reason that she was there.

"Yes, dear sister. I tested it on the other one first - and we both know how that turned out…" He dismissed Katya's death with a flip of the hand "And then I did further testing and realised that it wasn't me who'd make the mistake, but _her"_ Cassandra knew he was talking about their mother. Boys and their the traumas with their mothers - she thought sardonically. "I didn't want to use you - but needs must dear sister so, here we are…" He signaled around the lab "Making fresh batches of vaccine from which we'll market the cure, aren't you happy to be a part of this?"

Again - it was rhetorical, but if he had any brains, he'd have seen the flicker of fear in her eyes as the realisation of her plight sank in. He had injected her with the virus for her body to create the antibodies needed to make a cure, that was the only reason that he had hadn't killed her up until now. Surprisingly, her heart sank. Some part of her had always believed, even hoped, that he actually cared about her. Why she needed this, it wasn't clear - but it mattered not. She was an animal to him. An animal from which blood would be drawn until he had everything he wanted.

"Oh, is that the time?" He looked down at his expensive rolex and back at her "Got to dash - I have to make the preparations for the show and tell tomorrow." He leant over and kissed her on the forehead "You're going to make me a very rich man"

With that, he smiled and left the lab, leaving Cassandra paralysed and terrified as a third needle was stuck into her arm. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this. She was sure that not even NCIS would be able to find her.

She was screwed. Big time.


	15. Chapter 15 - The Equinox

**A/N: Oh wow - I am so overwhelmed by the love given by you guys. Thank-you so much countrygirluk56, angel897 and the wonderful guest for your reviews. Juneselene, rabbitkirsty, FallenAngel0601, , tamarabvillar and ed24555 (who appeared on these list again! weird haha!), I cannot thank-you enough for following this story and adding it to your favourites.**

 **I would also like to take this opportunity to thank Jodi93 for your wonderful message. I really appreciate the time you took to write it.**

 **Its super motivating to hear feedback from you, and everyone else through reviews, message and favs and follows. I love writing and to know that there are people that enjoy the crazy that is usually locked away in my head is so fulfilling.**

 **Thank-you to all my readers, and I hope you enjoy another chapter of this story.**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

"G. G… Goddamnit G - wait!"

Callen ignored Sams' pleas, jumping down the steps two at a time. There was no time to lose and there was nothing that anyone could say to stop him. He was on a mission, and he wasn't going to fail. Cassandra's life depended on it.

"G. G! Seriously! Wait!" Continuing his stance, Callen slipped into the bullpen to grab his car keys, checking his phone as he did so. Eric was too good, already having sent the location to his phone. What Callen hadn't counted on, was Sam practically barricading him into the bull pen.

"Sam, don't make me shoot you" He spoke, his glaring at him as he checked his gun and sheathed it.

"G. Come on man." Sam held his hands up in defence, but didn't move. Callen didn't have the patience to engage in this conversation, but knew he would have to humour him.

"What?" Callen asked, pocketing his phone. "What on earth do you have to say?" He was desperate. He could feel his voice tremble, as if it would break at any moment. He had just witnessed a group of men manhandle and kidnap Cassie - and knowing that Nate was there gave him no sense of relief. He trusted no-one with the safety of any member of his team, let along a member who had deadly infection. The more he thought about it, the more helpless he felt, and subsequently, the more violent his reaction was becoming "Sam, seriously, just get out of the way" Callen went the push into Sam, but was held back at arms length.

Sam shot him a look "We're all in this together" He had seen this before. Callen, the lone wolf, but he couldn't let him go off this time. "I am coming with you - but you have to calm down" Sam spoke, his voice full of wisdom, daring his partner to not comply "Because if you become reckless, we are going to lose" Sam had already reserved himself to the fact that they were on the losing team the moment he had met Cassandra Wyatt - but he had more of an affinity to her being alive that dead. Despite the multiple possible victims she'd accrued over the past 9 days, Sam's respect for the woman had not dwindled - but the affect she was having on his partner was growing more and more worrying.

"Do what you want, but I'm going now" Sam finally allowed Callen to pass, raising an eyebrow at him as he rushed off down the corridor. He caught the site of Deeks and Kensi stood on the stairs and he could do nothing more than shrug and follow his partner, hoping that this day didn't end as bad as it started.

"Nates house?" Deeks didn't know why he was surprised as he pulled up and parked behind their comrades car. It was the obvious place for her to hide out, seeing as cameras were installed in and around the NCIS safe houses (even though she had disabled the last lot). What did surprise him, was the fact that they hadn't been here, investigating her wherabouts sooner. He stepped out the car before voicing his more recent concerns.

"Don't you think its odd we didn't look here this week?" Deeks asked his partner, in a relatively rhetorical tone "I mean -" he continued "This is like obvious place number one, right?"

It didn't take much to convince Deeks and Kensi to join the other two in the field. In all honestly, it had taken nothing at all. That was something they were all so proud about their team - they jumped in the deep end and fought even when they had no idea what they were up against. Despite this being a common truth, Kensi was beginning to grow tired of the long game, feeling that something was going to have to give at some point, and the thing she feared most, was that it was going to someones life.

"Well I don't know about you, but this whole thing is odd" Kensi replied, tucking her hands in her pockets as they made their way up the drive way. "Besides, If Hetty had Nate on the job, then she probably knew Cassie was here anyway" She added, stopping to turn to her partner "This whole thing is just too big" Kensi felt a little lost in it all and nervously began to push invisible hairs behind her ears.

"Hey hey" Deeks stepped up, rubbing her arms in comfort "It's all going to be fine. Well jump in, grab goldilocks, beat the three bears and be home for porridge - my treat" His lopsided grin made Kensi smile, which was the point of the injection of jest, but neither of them could admit feeling 100% comfortable with the situation. But they didn't have much time to dwell on it, as a crash inside the house made them both jump and rush inside the residence.

"You have got to calm down!" Sam grabbed his partner by the shoulder "You are not thinking straight!" They heard, as they stepped through the front door.

"What happened?!" Kensi questioned, rushing into the living room, where she found Callen and Sam locked in a death stare, a smashed coffee table at their feet, sporting a flat screen TV with a shattered screen and trailing cables.

"Callen 1, TV 0?" Deeks chirped up, smile on his face. Kensi whacked him lightly in the stomach, indicating that she did not believe that it was the right time for jokes - and it really wasn't.

"G. -"

Callen pushed Sams hand off his shoulder and continued to search the living room without a word. There must be something there, he told himself. She sent that message, knowing that they'd trace it, knowing that he'd be there trying to find her. She would have left something, he knew it.

"This looks just like your place Kens" Deeks spoke, stepping over a load of papers on the floor "Messy and…"

"Deeks" Sam shot his a look, daring him to continue. Sam decided it was time he took charge, glancing over his shoulder at the man who should be calling the shots. It didn't take a genius to see that Callen was too involved in this. What ever it was that had the man wrapped up in this case, it was constricting him more with every minute that passed. Sam couldn't bare to think what would happen if they were too late. "I'll take upstairs, and you guys -" he turned back to the couple to his side "Grab what ever you can and search for any clue to her whereabouts"

Callen didn't even notice the three members of his team disperse around him, leaving him to take the last known location they had seen Cassandra, being dragged away. His eye lids fluttered as not to let the image of her abduction to settle in his mind. He tried with all his might to find strength in the image of her smile, the sound of her sarcastic tone, her expression when she fought with Granger - all those things that had happened over the past month.

So much had had happened… but not enough…

He bit his lip as he glanced out of the window, thinking about how much things had changed in such a small amount of time. She had turned their world upside down, bring with her danger, conspiracy and ultimately, heartache. His thoughts naturally rushed towards the dream he had last week, and how, despite not knowing whether it would have ever come true, he felt like it was more likely to attend her funeral.

"No - this is not happening" He ran his hands through his hair and knelt down to where he assumed she'd been recording, begging internally that a clue would practically pop out of thin air. He needed to find her. And he needed to find her now.

The men who had taken her had trashed the place pretty well, knocking around everything that had been in their grasp, causing a river of papers and books that lined the floor. Callen found his face buried in his hands as he tried to think, tried to rationalise the situation and prayed the answer would come soon.

And by some miracle - it did.

"Hey guys -" Callen heard Deeks say "I think I have something" Callen jumped up, and turned towards Deeks, who was making his way back into the living room. "Post-it-note in one of the kitchen cupboards on a coffee container." Callen resisted the urge to smile. "I'm pretty sure it's her hand-writing" Desk held up the note and Callen nodded in confirmation.

"What's it say?" Sam called from the landing above

" _The truth is in your killer backstory?"_ He revealed "What does that even mean?"

Callen finally let the small smile fall upon his face, thanking god for her obvious intelligence.

"It means -" Callen began, his hands lacing and finding their place behind his neck "She's a genius" He could help but laugh, turning quickly to stand where he was before, eye closed, thinking about what her note said. "Leopold.. Le - o - pold"

"What?" Deeks questions instantly, confusion on his face. It was mirrored by the other two agents as they joined the conversation

"And it's - probably…" He thought it through, processing the words of the note. She wouldn't have chosen those words just because. She was smart enough to know how to convey a message with little information, especially when she knew he'd be there to search for her. "Backstory. Not alias or -"

"In a book?" Kensi jumped in, seemingly the only one following what was going on

"Yes" Callens eyes opened. "Sam, is Nates office upstairs?"

"Yes, but G. What - ?" Callen didn't have time to answer. He rushed out of the living room, and ran up stairs to the office, passing sam without a word. The momentary rush halted when he stood in the centre of the office - where three of the four walls were lined with bookshelves that was filled to the brim.

 _Goddam you Nate and your love for literature!_

"What was your killer backstory?" Kensi asked, now by his side, looking at the mini library in awe

"Leopald" He remembered the very moment that name first came out of his mouth. Not even he was sure why he had chose that name, but he had been more interested in the guy that had interrupted their breakfast. He didn't know why, but that Thomas guy had put him right on edge.

"leopold and loeb?" Sam's voice shook him out of his thoughts "She said killer right?" Callen looked at Sam, who was smiling. "She said killer"

Sam reached up to the highest shelf, pulling out a small black book, which he turned to read the blurb "Among the criminal celebrities of Prohibition-era Chicago, not even Al Capone was more notorious than two well-educated and highly intelligent Jewish boys from wealthy South Side families. In a meticulously planned murder scheme disguised as a kidnapping, Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb chose fourteen-year-old Bobby Franks at random as their victim, abandoning his crumpled body in a culvert before his parents had a chance to respond to the ransom demand. Revealing secret testimony and raising questions that have gone unanswered for decades, Hal Higdon separates fact from myth as he unravels the crime, the investigation, and the trial, in which Leopold and Loeb were defended by the era's most famous attorney, Clarence Darrow. Higdon's razor sharp account of their chilling act, their celebrity, and their ultimate emergence as folk heroes resonates unnervingly in our own violent time." Sam looked over to Callen, handing the book to him "Killer backstory"

"She said it was _in_ the book" Deeks finally made his way into the room to stand beside Kensi, who's excitement was suddenly taking over her as they were reaching the end of the clue.

Callen was sure that none of them were breathing as he turned it over and opened the front page. In the centre of the pages of the book, a small square insert had been cut, within which a USB was hidden.

"What do you think is on it?" Kensi asked him.

"I guess, the truth"

* * *

It was a pitiful scene. Oxymoronic. A sheer juxtaposition. The light bounced off the white tiled walls making it seem that they were gleaming in holy light, yet in the centre of this heavenly scene was the work of the devil.

Cassandra remained tightly constrained on the chair in the centre of the room. White suited men still bustling around her, paying no heed to her plight. They simply worked on their tasks, ignoring the light groans that she was finally able to release from her dry mouth. The effects of the sedative were wearing off, but not enough to allow her to make an attempt to release herself from her prison. She felt too heavy.

"Leave us"

This was the first voice she had heard since Joshua had left hours before. The lab technicians limited themselves to taking blood and running their diagnostics with use of the many instruments that beeped happily along the work tops that lined the lab. And although she recognised the voice, it was not her brothers.

"I said LEAVE US!" The voice repeated. The lab technicians, who had initially ignored the mans request, instantly complied at the angry tone of voice. Cassandra wondered whether the fact they had not done so sooner was because they didn't understand him - were they foreign? Or were they simply too focused on their work? She didn't know, nor did it change her outlook on the situation. She was still screwed, and ever more so now she saw the face of the man who had shouted come into view. "It's lovely to see you again, Marianne"

 _Thomas…_

 _"_ But that isn't your real name is it" He laughed a hearty laugh, pushing his blond locks out of his eyes "But then again, by name isn't Thomas - so we're nil point on that one" He smiled down at her. He began to remove the restraints from her arms, and her body, looking sheepishly over his shoulder as he did so. "Lies… lies… lies" he muttered under his breath.

Cassandra's heart rate spiked as he towered over her. She was in such a vulnerable position and she was not used to it. She tried with all of her might to reach out to him, her mind playing the act of him helping her make her escape so clearly. It was bittersweet to feel that the he grabbed her hand and began to crush her fingers into a tight fist.

"I have to admit…" He began, tightening his grip "…I was fooled at first. They said that that the sister had been spotted in L.A., but no-one knew what you looked like." He paused, remembering the time they'd spent together "and to think, that you were right under my nose the whole time - it's almost unbelievable!" He laughed once more, tightening his grip even more. She couldn't even scream. She felt tears string in her eyes at the pain and frustration, but he didn't stop. Her tears seemed to make him more forceful.

"So when I was finally presented with a picture from my associates, I was furious!" He lifted her hand and pulled on her arm, lifting her sluggish body towards him with such force, she was surprised he hadn't dislocated her shoulder. He grabbed her, and held her head with his other hand in a position that could have been interpreted as romantic, were it not for the anger that was apparent all over his face. "I'd wasted so much time searching" He whispered angrily, his hand wrapping around her hair. He pulled hard, yanking her head back. "I wasted time looking when I had you. I HAD YOU!"

Cassandra closed her eyes and simply let him continue - she didn't have much choice in the matter. The frustration he felt was not his alone. She too felt anger - but at herself. She had been in a pseudo-relationship with this guy for almost a year and had not even clocked that he had anything to do with her brother.

"But then…" He released her hair and lifted her head delicately "that day I saw you on the boulevard with Leopold, or _Agent Callen_ isn't it?" she quickly opened her eyes at the sound of Callens name. They knew who he was - that couldn't be good for anyone. "And I knew that I would be able to prove myself to _Ubitsya._ I knew that you would show yourself again and I would be able to bring you to him." He began to stoke her face. "There there - no need to shed a tear" His large grin and soothing tone did nothing to calm her. "It'll all be over soon" He stood up quickly, wiping his hands on his lab coat as if he believed she was contagious.

The sound of movement in the corridor spooked him slightly, as he stepped back quickly, craning his neck to see whether anyone was coming this way. He took a couple of steps towards the door and laughed at his nervous reaction. He opened his mouth to be able to speak, but was met with a gun cracking the side of his head. As his body fell to the ground, Cassandra's did also, unable to keep herself up.

"Cassie" She heard another familiar voice now, but she recognised this one oh so well.

"N-nate" She whimpered, her body unwilling to comply to her brains request.

"One sec" He spoke. Cassandra could hear the sound of Nate dragging the body of the man she knew as Thomas. Moments later, she heard footsteps coming towards her. "Up we go" his tone happier than it should be under the current circumstances.

"Where.. are…?"

"No talking, just walking Cassie - we really don't have much time" Nate's tone turned from happy to desperate, as he lifted her dead weight off the floor, slinging her arm around his shoulders.

Cassandra was happy to comply with his order, relishing in the irony of how this very situation, Nate holding Cassandra up, was the very way this entire thing started, from the ambulance to the car to the boat house, Nate has dragged her into this situation and was dragging her back out again. Ironic indeed.

It took the small amount of energy she had left in her body to keep herself from succumbing to the demand of gravity. Both hands lay limp, her feet scuffling along as she was taken from the lab into what ended up being a large maze of corridors. Every so often, Nate would stop, leaning her against some ledge or random filing cabinet that was in the middle of the corridors. This gave him the opportunity to scout ahead and check the coast was clear. Lab assistants and security guards laced the corridors. Despite the constant possibility of being caught, Cassandra was not completely against the pauses. It gave her the opportunity to test her extremities, that were slowly returning to her power.

"We have a little bit of a problem" She heard him whisper, as he let her down once more. She rolled her eyes, pulling her hand up to nurse it in her other. It wasn't broken, but it was sure as hell hurting.

"No. You sure?" She replied sarcastically

"Yeah" He replied, ignoring her sarcasm "Once we get to the end of this corridor, we have to take the life to the surface" Cassandra raised an eyebrow. They were underground? Suddenly, she began to feel her claustrophobia set in and both her hands began to shake. She tried to swallow the feelings of nausea. "Problem is - the lift has a retina scan"

Cassandra closed her eyes and set her head back, raising her hands to rest on her chest, before doubling over herself "And who's eye do we need?"

"No idea" He spoke defeated, leaning up against the wall beside her.

"So you got in with no way out?" She looked up at him "Smart man"

"I didn't think this through" His tone cut into her heart as she realised that she wasn't exactly being helpful. He did risk his life to come and get her - again.

"Rule number 17, Nate - " She took a deep breath and finally arose to her feet "Never enter anywhere without an exit plan"

He pushed off the wall and jumped to her side, afraid she may fall to the floor. "And you have a plan?" He asked, almost hopeful.

She took a hold of his outstretched arms with both hands and stabilised herself. It was in this moment that she actually looked at him. His hair was longer and a lot less well kept as the last time she had seen him, following Granger out of the safe house. It felt life a life time ago when the three heads were her problem. She let out a humourless laugh when she realised that Granger had set this whole thing in motion before it had even happened - he had an uncanny ability to do that, and keep everyone else in the dark. But it wasn't time to dwell on that. It was time to get out.

"Come on Nate, you know me" She said, trying to muster some sort of smile "I always have a plan"

* * *

"it's all here" Hetty moved slowly towards the screen, in awe of what she way seeing. "Everything. It's … " she paused placing a hand over her mouth

"She's done her homework" Granger spoke, meeting hetty just a couple of feet away from the large screen in ops "She's delivered his entire operation to us"

"In just 9 days?"

"She's probably been working on it a while but didn't want to give it up." Gibbs was leant against the centre table, slightly uncomfortably. He kind of wished they had the chairs that they had in their own monitoring room, but it wasn't something he was going to suggest. He wanted to find Cassandra and get back home as soon as possible, dragging that Russian blond child with him - he'd never let her out of his sight again "You know what she's like. She'd want to bring them down herself"

"So why give it to us now?" Hetty asked, turning towards the only man that potentially knew her better than she. _Potentially_. But to her surprise, it was not _this_ man that answered.

"Because she doesn't think she'll be around to complete it"

Gibbs folded his arms over his body at Grangers answer, unable to day anything to dispute the fact. Cassandra didn't expect to survive. "Well I'll be damned if I lose her to this maniac" He spoke, pushing himself off the table. "What else did she store in that stick thing?" He waved dismissively to the USB dock that Nell had set up for them to view the files. "Anything to tell us where she is? Or what Joshuas next move is?"

"Umm. Well -" Nell nervously looked through the file system on her tablet to identify anything that didn't constitute evidential data against a plethora of persons of interest. "I haven't had a good look but, I'm sure there's something" She looked up at Gibbs, who simply looked back expectantly. "Which I will find now" She turned and sat down, tapping away on the keyboard, eyeing Eric out of the corner of her eye.

Gibbs turned to see Callen and his team stood nervously on the other side of the table and cocked an eyebrow. He had seen this before, the nervous calm before the ubiytsa storm - but this one was slightly different, the team behind him was slightly different. None had been assigned, yet all were there waiting expectantly to step up to the plate and get this done. He was proud of the agent that Callen had become, despite knowing that there was something more to his motivation than professionalism.

"Gibbs, I just spoke to McGee. He's got all the background on the Doctor" Bishop rushed into the room, unaware of what the entire team were doing in near silence.

"Great Bishop" He smiled at the young woman "Now- I need you to go back"

"But Gibbs I -" Bishop tried to argue, but he was not having it, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Don't argue. Flight leaves in an hour." He spun her around and pushed her gently towards the door "Now, Bishop"

"Fine" She didn't resist, knowing that it would get her no-where.

The moment she left, silence took a hold on the team once more, all lost in their thoughts, just waiting for Nell and Eric to give them some sort of direction. This wait was eating Callen inside, and he knew that if they didn't come up with something soon - he was going to explode.

"We're going to find her" Sam spoke, to his left. Callen felt his partner place a hand on his shoulder "Eric and Nell have never let us down"

Callen nodded in reply, wishing that he was out doing some actual field work - but he knew there was no point - their only string to follow was on that USB.

"I'm sorry Gibbs" Callen hared Hetty speak and she watched as she placed her small hand on Gibbs' arm. Callen took this as a welcomed distraction from his own thoughts.

"What for? Putting yet another one of my girls in trouble?" He answered sarcastically, remembering the time he feared for Abbys life "Don't be"

"Thats unfair" Granger turned to look at the older man, defiantly. Callen felt himself stiffen at the sight of Granger turning to challenge Gibbs.

"Don't get me started on what is fair, Owen" Gibbs returned the defiant tone.

"Gentlemen" Hetty stepped between them both, a palm held to each man "Please, lets focus our efforts on this investigation at hand"

Before either could utter another word, Eric jumped from his seat.

"Hetty - I've got something" Everyone stopped dead. This was it. The string had reached the end. Callen stepped forward, making his way to stand next to Gibbs. He looked down at the young agent and gave him an approving nod. They were ready.

* * *

Cassandra followed Nate's instructions, trusting his sense of direction as they made it back to the lab. It sounded like suicide (which it probably was), but it only made sense that a man who was able to command all the lab techs to leave was probably the boss in this underground prison, besides Joshua. With that in mind, it wasn't too far fetched to think that maybe his eye was the key to their exit.

True, he was probably still knocked out, which meant that they would have to drag the bodies up and down and round about until they got back to the lift - or at least that would have been the less macabre plan. Cassandra had thought of something a little less socially acceptable, but as her father used to say _"Desperate times comes for deadly measures"._ And this was as desperate as they were going to get.

"Are you ok?" Nate asked one corridor away from the lab, raising his arm to stop her before she continued on. She wasn't as fast on her feet as usual, that much was obvious, but she was much better off now than she was an hour ago.

"Fine - now come on. I can't stay down here much longer" She was impatient and felt like she was drowning. She had always hated confined spaces.

Nate lowered his arm and nodded, unsheathing his weapon. "Lets go then"

She nodded in agreement, following just behind him.

What happened next neither surprised nor phased her.

Thomas, or what ever his name was, was not where they'd left him, but ready behind the door to jump Nate as he entered, the gun felt out of his hand and back out into the corridor. Cassandra reacted by finding the first sharp instrument she could and stuck it in his neck, giving Nate enough time to get out from under his grasp and to the corridor where the gun had slid.

"You BITCH!" Thomas screamed, pulling the scalpel out of his neck, turning towards Cassandra. "I'll fucking kill you!"

Cassandra watched as Thomas rushed towards him, readying herself for the impact - but it never came. The bullet, shot from behind, met Thomas right between the eyes. As his body fell, she noted the location of the scalpel. Lucky the eyes were in tact. They'd be out soon enough.

"Great shot Nate" She spoke, her voice becoming less and less raspy, stepping over the body towards the instrument.

"Cassie?" The tone in Nate's voice caught her off guard. She didn't attempt to bend down, simply turning around to see Nate, gun to his head with Joshua stood behind him, smug look on his face. Cassandra stepped back, with the idea to pick up the scalpel at the first chance she could.

"Don't" Joshua whispered "I have no qualms at having two dead doctors Sandry" She stopped moving, raising her hands at his threat. He placed the gun to the back of Nates head "To your knees. NOW!" Nate complied, looking up at Cassandra. The fear in his eyes was warranted, and it killed her to see it.

Cassandra contemplated begging him to let Nate go, the words already dancing on his tongue - but it would do nothing more than fuel his ego. Alas, she opted for a silent stare, waiting for her chance.

"You are suck a fool!" Joshua was angry at her "Did you really think you were going to get out of here alive?!" He spat "I am smarter than you! I am a veritable genius that is going to be the richest more powerful man in the world in less that 24 hours! Don't you GET THAT!" He was losing it, and it was lucky that he was, because he had just given her an idea.

She smiled at him. Just smiled. A big, cheesy, grin. All she needed was him to be distracted for just a second. Just one second to falter in his stance. Just One Second…

And she got it.

"Why are you…?"

He lifted the gun just a centimetre from Nates head, giving her plenty of time to turn back, reach for the scalpel and turn back to look at her brother, who had subsequently began to laugh like a maniac

"What do you think you can do with that? I have a gun to your precious doctors head!" He almost screamed.

"Yes you do" She finally spoke. "But you won't shoot him"

"And why on earth do you think that"

"Because" She lifted the scalpel to her neck, pressing down on the jugular just enough to rip the skin a little "You need me alive and I have no qualms with suicide" She spoke calmly, stepping backwards.

Joshua's eyes widened when he realised what she was threatening to do, a twitch appearing in his left eye, just like their father used to have when he was furious with her. In this moment, she realised how alike her brother was to her father, and how ironically similar she was to her own mother, driven to suicide by the maniac before him.

"Get the gun" She mouthed to Nate, whose wide eyes met hers, pleading she reconsider "Thank-you for everything"

She closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate. She wasn't going to leave their alive - and maybe she deserved it. 15 years later - she would finally be at peace.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" She heard her brother scream. She smiled, knowing that what she was about to do, would give Nate enough time to overcome her brother, take the gun and get out of here. She pushed down hard, not cringing at all as she felt the skin burst beneath the blade. It was about time this nightmare ended.


End file.
